


Love Live! Revolution Time!!

by yungdreams



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project, Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Death, Drugs, F/F, Fugitives, Grimdark, Guns, Heist, Organized Crime, Out of Character, Psychological Trauma, cliche-ridden on purpose, too much realism, very very light sci-fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 13:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12299859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yungdreams/pseuds/yungdreams
Summary: The year is 202X, and idolhood is illegal.





	1. The Nun

**Author's Note:**

> recommended listening: payday 2 ost  
> massive work in progress subject to massive edits

Somewhere in the South China Sea, the privateer merchant ship _Sunshine_ was lounging in its namesake, hauling untaxed cargo to persons unknown for prices fair. Its first mate, one Watanabe You, was sitting in a lawn chair on the deck under a white parasol, letting the wind whip through her hair. It was an off day for them, and everyone aboard, even Ruby, had become accustomed to the smell of wet salt and the constant chopping of the waves.

Naturally, one wouldn’t have thought Aqours would vanish off the map so quickly; it did, however, fit with the epidemic of idol groups vanishing of their own accord, part of what historians labeled the Great Idol Exodus of 201X. Idolhood had surged into popularity around the globe, girls (and some boys) borne from every country, every walk of life coming together in joined sisterhood. But it had ended almost as fast as it had begun. Countless singers, fading out from the glow of the stage.

The harbingers of this dark age had been a group of nine girls, beautiful and vibrant, who had single-handedly caused the explosion of idol popularity, bringing music back to the masses and rousing them into activity and for some, into revolution. Yet, as suddenly as they had come, they had disappeared like a puff of smoke. In their absence came the iron-fisted crackdown, the arrests, and eventually war. Idolhood had become synonymous with fugitivism.

They, like so many others, had ceased to be idols and had plied different trades, intermingled with the international community as pirates, thieves, or mercenaries, keeping in brief contact on the online inter-relay chat of the secret IdolWild server, keeping an eye on one other as much as they could manage in such dark times. Others devoted themselves to forging new identities, becoming rule-abiding citizens, to trade the veins of their nature for a measure of parleyed safety. Love Live was itself a ghost town, a farce put on by the multiple fascistic regimes that had taken over in the wake of the devastating Exodus. Others still had taken unknown, darker, more sinister paths.

The age of idols had ended. It was as if the gods themselves were dead.

Aqours’ secrecy was mostly uneventful. Most of the cargo they carried was barely contraband, if not for the massive sea tariffs imposed on every crate. Was secrecy really their best chance of survival? The commander lounged backward in her chair and pulled her white hat over her face. They were all still rather new to this life, only in secrecy for the last several years or so, but everyone had immediately made the transition for everyone’s sake. The last person to be dragged into it was Kanan, who had only left after making sure her father was rested up and well. Everyone was aboard besides Mari, who was in Naples, making contact with other groups and finding the rest of them work.

“Permission to join you?” It was Chika, coming up to the deck cheerily.

“Always, Captain,” said You, muffled under her hat. Chika popped a beer off of a six-pack and handed it to her. The titles were nothing more than nominal arrangements between them all aboard the _Sunshine_ ; You had always been the more seafaring of them, and was better suited to being Captain, but Chika agreed to take responsibility for anything that may happen at port. Jointly, they didn't so much run _Sunshine_ ; more appropriately, they 'arranged' it.

“Status report?”

You lounged on the deck and stretched her neck, leaning against Chika, under the shade of the parasol.

“Kana-chan’s tuning up the engine while we drift. No problems, just routine! Hanamaru and Ruby are napping in the quarters, and Yoshiko’s making lunch—it’s curry again.”

“Yikes. Dia and Riko-chan?”

“On the horn! We got hailed a bit ago. Might be a job?” Chika stifled a yawn. She opened a beer and downed a long draught. "Sometimes, I can see why you love all this so much, but most of the time it gets so _boring_."

“Make sure Kanan finishes soon. We gotta get this cargo in to Guangzhou at some point in the next week. If it’s a job, we won’t be able to get back to it until we hit up that lead in Hong Kong.”

“I think everybody’s itching for a little shore leave.”

“We all deserve it, honestly.”

Chika laid a head against You’s thigh. It was hot, and her hair fell, mussed and shaggy, over her eyes. It was long now. You entwined her fingers around a wayward chunk, the color still a raucous orange-red, and began twirling it into a braid.

“Do you ever think about your mom and dad, You-chan?”

“All the time. We ran off so quick.”

“I think I’d like to go back at some point. At least to let them know we’re alright.”

“Yeah. Although, dodging military police doesn’t sound fun or worthwhile to me. They’re safest with us out here on the water.”

“It’s not fair,” Chika whined noisily. You felt a familiar hand on her hip as the orange-haired girl shifted around. She said nothing, although she agreed with every word Chika said. You took her hands off of Chika’s head, and as she sat up, the braid came undone before her eyes.

“Hey. Chika-chan, You-chan. Do you both have a second?” Riko’s maroon head was peeking abovedeck at the two of them.

Dia was waiting for them in the comms room as Riko took her seat.

“Okay, so we received this really strange message on the multidecoder.”

Riko brought up the decoded message.

“An image?” asked You.

“Mm-hm! A shortwave ham radio SSTV bitmap.”

“Wait a minute,” said Chika warily. “Is that…?” It was a square photograph of a poster that Chika had made, at her first year of Uranohoshi, advertising the beginning of a school idol group. Through the fuzzy signal noise speckling the image, You could clearly see the addition of two bright red words at the bottom, written in marker. The first read PHUKET in English, while the second was a word in sloppy-looking Thai script.

“’Dead pig’,” read You carefully. “What the fuck?”

“Like I said, a really strange message. Your orders, You-chan?”

You shook her head. “Chika-chan?”

“Jeez, it’s so threatening-looking!”

“If I may?” asked Dia. “I’m certain that it’s a place, rather than anything else. It’s almost too vague to be a threat. And if it was a trap, I’m certain that it would just be a fake job offer too good to pass up.”

“Well, only a select handful of people have ever even had access to that poster Chika made,” said Riko. “That notch in the top looks familiar… I think it’s reasonable to suggest that, whoever sent this message, it was probably given by Mari-chan.”

“Or Mari’s dead, and this is all a huge danger signal,” said You, dismissively.

"Besides, why bother sending a threat? If they were close enough that they could send this reliably, they could just ambush us and be over with it."

"No clue," said You. "Unless they know we're around these parts, and they're fishing for hush money."

Chika bit her lip. “It’s worth checking out.”

Riko gave her a worried look. “I-in person?”

“Whoever made this knew that poster was important to us—to me. Somebody else is trying to get our attention.” In You’s head, she was mulling over the options. It was Chika’s call. Going ashore meant never leaving your wits at sea, as her dad always said.

Dia checked the GPS. “We’re actually really close. If Kanan finishes within the hour, we can probably make it to Phuket in nine or so hours.”

“Okay. You-chan, can you go tell Kanan and the others about the change in course? We’re putting our job on hold.”

“Are you serious?”

“We’re overdue for shore leave, I think. Someone wants to meet us in person.” Chika was visibly excited.

“Maybe it’s other idols,” said Riko, her voice quavery with prospective forays and making contact.

“And if it’s a trap?” asked You, looking at Chika. Chika gave a thumbs up and a determined smile.

“Then we’re getting that poster back, obviously.”

It felt contagious across the room.

There was a little twinge of excitement in You’s chest, and Chika's smile had won her over. “Yousoro,” she grinned.

The night was inky-black before they made port in Phuket Province, Thailand. Kanan had had her maintenance cut short, so she resumed as they were anchored in port. Chika delegated herself, Riko, and You to go ashore as the official landing party. A quick Internet search revealed the Dead Pig Bar several miles inland, and Riko phoned a cab from a pay phone at the docks.

The ride into the nearest town was a slow transition from flat, industrial roads into a paved highway that emptied out into a nearby, burned-out looking small town, passing two or three gas stations, trucks rumbling past them. Here they found it.

The bar was packed, bizarrely quiet, although thrumming with activity. A group of men were playing poker at one of the tables, and the air was thick with the acrid brand of cigarette smoke and cheap drink. They caught stares from the surrounding tables.

You took her seat at the bar near the bartender, who looked her up and down briskly before going back to cleaning a glass. Riko and Chika took stools next to her.

You was visibly tense. Always ready to run. She ran a finger on the grip of the knife at her belt. During these years in secrecy, she was not without her skill in a fight. She tapped the bar twice to get the barkeep’s eye and ordered them a round of drinks.

“Drink up. Riko, you’re shaking. At least keep it in front of you to look casual.”

Riko whirled her head around. “That was the strangest message I think we’ve ever gotten. It was a bitmap-radio transmission, not even a voice.”

“Could be a trap,” said You.

“That’s the thing. It’s almost… too eerie to even be a trap.”

“Well, I’m not going to do anything to put our group in danger. Aqours doesn’t deserve that after all that keeps on happening in this world.” You downed her drink perfunctorily and flicked her fingers at the barkeep for another. Riko watched her closely.

“We were prepared for danger when we wanted to go out onto the water, You-chan. All of us were.”

“Anybody else just curious who could’ve sent us such a specific message, though?” asked Chika.

“Who, indeed?” Very much on cue, a strange, nondescript man stepped from out of the shadows and joined the landing party at the bar. He spoke Japanese with an extremely thick Thai accent. Chika, Riko, and You all stared at him as he casually ordered a drink.

“There’s a Filipino mission about an hour past Phuket. A driver will pick you up tomorrow morning from the docks and take you there. I was paid to bring you this message, and it doesn’t pay to answer any more questions.”

He picked up the drink and walked off before Chika could open her mouth. You grabbed his arm before he could fully walk off.

“Who paid you?”

He looked around, looking wary. “A nun. Let go of my arm.” He wrestled his arm free, and strode away angrily to another table, whose occupants eyed You with a degree of caution.

Shore leave seemed a little dour to the _Sunshine_ crew. All of the clandestine aspects of this job, or whatever it was, seemed to be to their benefit to evade the Royal Police patrols around the city, but You was still extremely unnerved about things to come.

Back on the Sunshine, Kanan was toweling off her face, her upper chest covered in sweat, as she clambered out of the engine compartment. You greeted her with a Styrofoam box of basmati rice and Thai-style fish korma, and a cold beer. She thanked her XO with a nod.

“How’s she look?”

Kanan took a leisurely sip out of the bottle. “We need to get her in for some extended maintenance. If we can find a private dock, Mari could probably get us a long stay. Sunshine’s got old bones, Commander. Constantly running isn’t good for her.”

“We’re not taking on water, though, right?”

Kanan gave a low, husky laugh. “No, and you know I can keep her up for anything short of that.”

“We got a job coming up,” You said. She didn’t mean to make it sound as dour as she did; Kanan eyed her with a soft look. “Something on land?”

“Possibly something dangerous. They went to pretty extreme lengths to contact us.”

“I shouldn’t be worried about Mari, then, should I?”

“I’d never worry about Mari-senpai. Well, c’mon, eat. And get some rest while you’re at it.”

Ruby was hanging around abovedecks, kicking her bare toes off the side of the boat.

“Commander,” Yoshiko addressed You. She handed her one of the two guns that the Sunshine had aboard, an old Tokarev. “A firebrand. None of my little demon helpers should die on such a simple mission, and Captain Chika doesn’t like using guns.”

You checked the action on the pistol. “Well, I don’t either, Yoshiko. If I don’t make it back, Kanan’s your commander now.”

Yoshiko gave her a charged smile, and squeezed her arm excitedly. “You will, though. We'll have only good tidings from here on out, I can feel it!”

*

The morning came.

The truck was a pickup, and a little grimy. The driver was female, not much older than the three of them, slender, with bright blue eyes, dressed in a suit like a chauffeur and black hair hidden under a black softcap. She smiled, nodded at them curtly, and opened the door so You, Chika and Riko could squeeze into the extremely small cabin.

The ride was uneventful and long, bumping over shoddy backroads and winding in and out of the national highways. The driver was reticent, and she stayed quiet, even as Chika asked her question after question about what was to come. Slowly but surely, they made their way off the openness of paved roads onto gravel and eventually, mud.

Past an area where the foliage was so dense, their truck drove through patches of dark shade while vines thumped on the top of the vehicle, they found the mission, a dusty, taupe-colored building nestled away in a criss-cross of hinterlands, with a plain-looking crucifix jutting toward the sunny sky. The driver disembarked the vehicle, and leaned against it.

A nun emerged from the darkness of the entryway. She had a soft-looking face, somewhat middling in height.

“Oh! You’re early.” She beckoned them inside, while the driver remained out by the truck.

They were led into the dark chapel around series of narrow hallways of unadorned brick, past an adjoined orchard of small fruit trees and tall, nigh-flowering cannabis plants being tended by a few nuns. Bright shafts of light streamed in through the windows at the top of the building, yet the room retained a somewhat musty dimness. The pews were heavily varnished to account for the humid air.

“I suppose you have questions for me.” The nun spoke in Kansai dialect; a light, careful voice filled with polite mannerisms. “Please, sit. Can I offer you a cup of tea?”

“Where’d you get that poster?” Chika asked.

“From your associate, Ohara Mari. She gave it to me as a sign of good faith. I figured it was the best way to get your attention.”

Riko looked puzzled. “Have you met us before?”

“Probably not.” Another nun came through the door with a tray, laden with teapot and cups. You was the last one standing, and she finally, begrudgingly, took her seat on one of the pews opposite a small table, and looked up at the nun.

“Our tea is Burmese chai, freshly grown in the garden outside. I trust you saw it? It’s our little labor of love out here in the jungle—well, besides doing the work of God, I should say.”

“That’s a nice little grow operation you’ve got going, Sister,” said You. “What, five rows by seven? Not the biggest harvest, but you probably average a kilogram a plant.”

“Oh, those!” The nun giggled. “Purely for financial reasons. The mission serves as a safehouse for wayward travelers and vagabonds, and we’re often in need of capital and collateral in case the Royal Police are ever by. Please,” she said, sliding a filled teacup and saucer to You, who didn’t touch it.

“Okay. Well, you’ve gotten our attention. Do you have a job for us, or not?”

The nun took a long draught of tea. “I don’t need to impress on you how serious a time we’re living in, or how nothing has been the same since the Exodus. Have any of you been back to Japan?”

They all shook their heads.

“I haven’t either,” said the nun. “We’ve all taken on different lives, haven’t we? Some of us rob and fight to stay alive. But we’re all idols at heart, and we’ll all follow the same cause, even if we don’t know it. It’s in our blood.” You watched her, the way she held her upper body, the shy, yet determined way she swayed, and the youthful nature in her face.

“I am only interested in pursuing that one, greater cause.”

“Divine duty?”

“Revolution, Takami-san. We have a duty to restore hope and faith to the masses of this world, to fight for global class struggle, and to pull down the bonds that truss us in oppression.”

“Fighting words,” said You.

Chika raised the teacup to her lips. “Well, you’ve definitely won me over your talk alone! What do you want Aqours, one group, to do?”

“Your task, should you choose to shoulder it, is to reunite µ’s.”

There was a smash; Chika had dropped her teacup, and she scrambled to gather up the shards of broken ceramic from the chapel floor while You looked on, her eyes wide.

“What?” asked You. µ’s was still active? Still around? If the members could be managed to reunite and bring their presence back to the oppressed world, the consequences could be meteoric. You was locked into attention faster than she had ever been—and to be instrumental in doing so seemed a duty unto itself. The nun met her intent-laden look with a nonverbal reply that still showed a glint of determination, a tacit but firm approval of her shock, and her immediate acceptance.

“W-why us?” Riko’s face was crossed with an uncertain expression, being presented with an insurmountable obstacle.

“With your yet-undiscovered latent abilities as idols, and my intel and resources, you are by far the best hope this world has for locating and bringing everyone back together.”

“Where would we even start? Nine different girls, all in hiding across the world? The most legendary idols of the last era before Exodus?”

“Not all nine. Allow me to introduce myself,” said the nun. She pulled the habit from her head, revealing bright green eyes, a mass of glossy purple hair, and a soft smile. “My name is Toujou Nozomi, ninth member of µ’s and your eyes and ears on the mainland.”

She continued, her onlookers amazed. You’s mouth was agape. Toujou Nozomi. A living legend, love from tens of millions of fans electronically sealed away in pre-Exodus data archives. She was a titan among idols. She looked virtually identical to her time back in u’s, except for a spread of stippled, scarred flesh on one ear.

“I’ve always preferred to be away from the fighting, myself. My years in exile have been spent building a vast network of contacts. All of my resources are at your disposal for the completion of this objective.”

You gave a look around at the awestruck Chika and the dumbfounded Riko. “If you’re so well connected, why do you need a bunch of pirates to do the deed?”

Nozomi looked away from You, towards the windows, where sunbeams were cutting their way through the brick. “I have my reasons.” She looked back at You, who was sending a suspicious glare her way with an intense expression.

“I understand your doubts. It’ll be long. It will likely even take us years. There’s no way for me to guarantee your safety on a job this large, and the pay that I can offer you is probably insignificant compared to whatever bounties you could collect if you renege on our deal—although, if you betray me, you wouldn't get the opportunity to take advantage of them. But above all else, I know that your respect of µ’s goes beyond the purely professional. For this kind of work, I—and the world at large—need idealists.”

“Give us a second.”

Nozomi looked them over with her sagelike eyes as You convened Riko and Chika to talk it over.

“You-chan, you have to say yes.” Chika was tugging at the arm of You’s shirt. “We owe this to µ’s.”

The air was thick with heat and moisture. It was as though they were being smothered. A drop of sweat rolled down You’s temple.

“Of course we do.”

“I need to let the rest of Aqours know what we’re getting into. This is the most dangerous job we’ve pretty much ever accepted.”

“It might be the last job we ever do, then,” Riko added.

“I trust both of you, but what about Hanamaru or Ruby? They’re scared stiff as it is with everything we do. I can’t just ask them to come along on the most dangerous mission we’ve ever taken, for the sake of remaining a team.”

“If it’s for µ’s, if it’s for the sake of being an idol in this world, everyone will understand. Especially Dia, Kanan, and Mari.” Chika squeezed You’s hand. The gray-brown haired girl looked over at Riko, who nodded at her.

“I trust any decision that you two want to make. You-chan has the conviction to make anything work, right?”

Although the seconds ticked by, glacially, it felt like years passed as they cloistered away from Nozomi in the cramped chapel. Finally, You turned back to her, and brought up one hand in a firm salute.

“We’ll do it.”

The evening was capped by a quiet dinner of carryout aboard the _Sunshine_. Everyone had unanimously agreed to take upon this job, whether for their own survival or for the good of something greater, especially Ruby, anxious, biting her lip, and Yoshiko, as grandiose as ever. Riko was shaking a little as she ate, excited but deeply frightened, almost on the verge of tears, like the imminent danger on the horizon, formless and inexplicable, was the lead to one or all of their deaths. As the night grew darker and longer, the mood grew steadily dour with unease and doubt.

One by one, the girls dropped off to sleep in their quarters. You was left awake, staring out the portholes to the roiling sea beyond the harbor, nursing at a glass of cheap whiskey.

When she finally nodded off to sleep, she dreamt of her parent’s faces.

*

They awoke in the bright, shining morning to find that Nozomi and her quiet driver had come out to the docks to greet them. Nozomi’s purple hair was flapping in the wind, and she walked over to gangplank to meet a bleary-eyed You.

“Good morning, You-san. Here.” Nozomi handed over two manila envelopes. “The first half of your deposit has been transferred to an international slush funds account I took the liberty of starting for Aqours, as well as encrypted bank cards that can be used at functionally any ATM on the planet. Consider this a small stipend for travel and utility expenses. The second is the dossier for your first target. Extraction instructions include where to drop her.”

You rubbed her eyes, and opened one of the envelopes to find an information sheet. Clipped to it was a photo of a tall, long-legged woman with a stern face, and a head of red hair in semi-casual business attire, surrounded by older men in suits.

“Is this—?”

“Nishikino Maki. Tech and surveillance specialist, as well as chief musical brain for µ’s. Currently working under a different name for a pop music production company in Seoul. Quite the conspicuous application of her talents, but thievery did not suit her, and we’ve all taken different jobs following the Exodus.”

“Understood. We’ll set a course for Busan today.” You flipped through the packet with the dossier, finding forged port authority and customs papers for Korean-owned fishing vessels.

“Oh, and I’ve brought gifts.” With Aqours thronged at the flatbed truck, the driver uncovered what appeared to be large hard-sided instrument cases. She threw the latches, and You gasped with a sudden rush of excitement.

“Tactical infiltration suits. All black. Complete with belts and easily modular for shoulder holsters, waist holsters, backpacks, or Kevlar. A favorite for many members of µ’s, including me,” Nozomi blushed. “Every idol group should have a good uniform, for any occasion. I’ll handle it this time around, as a kind of debut present, but in the future, you should elect someone to handle dress code.”

“Thank you for everything, Toujou-san.”

“Oh, think nothing of it!” Nozomi said pleasantly. “And ‘Nozomi-chan,’ please. As of now, you and I are contemporaries, You-chan.”

She leaned forward. The salt spray on her face gave off a diamondlike scatter of light as she grasped one of You’s hands. “Please bring back Maki-chan, safe and sound.”

As the boat, laden with newly-gotten cargo, began to pull out of the docks, the engine chugging to a rapid whine, Nozomi waved them off cheerfully as the driver stood silently next to her, holding the bill of her cap down in the fierce wind. Chika waved back from abovedocks. The light caught the salt spray in front of her sailing clothes, and her eyes had a certain glow to them.

“That excitable one, the orangette,” remarked Nozomi, “reminds me of a certain someone. Don’t you think so, Honoka-chan?”


	2. The Composer

_Sunshine_ arrived at Busan over choppy waves a day or so past, and Aqours struck out in civilian clothing carrying lumpy multicolored duffel bags, as if they were still a group on tour. Bustling with activity, Busan had the kind of grayish attitude that You had come to love, the brisk smell of salt on the air near the docks, the dense closeness of the streets and people all thronged together. It reminded her of Uranohoshi, of the sun and gentle, sloping hills over a busy port town. Aboard the train, Ruby trembled as the city guard officer checked her false Declaration of Non-Idolhood papers, scanning it and checking a registry on a portable tablet.

It was well into night by the time they made their way to Seoul, grabbing several rooms at a motel and dropping off their bags. As luck would have it, there was a windowless van parked outside, which Kanan hotwired, where they changed into their gear, and drove to the production building. Chika’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and she roused everyone else to look.

“Wow,” said You.

It was a tall, glittering modernist symbol of manufactured, industrial-grade radio music, a square turret with rounded edges and done all over in steel and glass, with a massive neon sign that read SPARKLESTAR along one face in Hangul. Driving around to the building next to it, they parked their stolen van in an alleyway and used a dumpster and some acrobatics to pull down the fire escape, which they used to climb, single-file, up to the top. Stringing a high-tensile wire with a speargun across to the protruding air-vents atop the production building, four of the eight present members of Aqours managed to cross to the other building.

You wiped the sweat from her forehead. It was her, Yoshiko, Ruby and Riko. Chika, Hanamaru, Dia, and Kanan were waiting in the van down on the ground.

With a thumb at the push-to-talk button at her ear, You whispered into her communicator. “Dia, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear,” came Dia’s voice.

“We’re starting infiltration. We’ll radio when we have the target in custody. Over.”

“Aye aye, commander. Over and out.”

Riko brought up the schematic for the building’s layout on the toughpad she was carrying along.

“The studios are down about floor nine or so. We’re going to have to crawl down for a while.”

“Shit, why didn’t we just go from the ground floor up?”

“Doors are locked this time of night. We have to circumvent the alarms to even get out the front door, not counting the guards. Nishikino’s only in there because she works until the dead of night, pretty much constantly. She has a company chauffeur that takes her to and from her apartment. If we want the cleanest getaway, it’s taking her out of the building, up onto the roof, and rappelling down the apartments to get to the van. This method also beats going in through the sewers.”

The crew exited the vents near one of the staircases and went four floors down, ducking out of the way of the patrols onto another hellish-looking white collar office floor. The hallways were lit with fluorescent lighting, giving off a sickly, pale feeling. You watched down one of the hallways, deathly quiet, as the security guard, a rotund guy in a blue uniform, rounded a corner, his dark shadow disappearing from sight, before throwing the signal to head to the stairs.

“As soon as we actually have Nishikino with us, we can take the elevator all the way back up to the roof.”

They headed single-file down the corridor.

“The guards have a local transmitter that’s attached to the back of their ID cards, which pings the main security complex every 30 seconds or so. With a little luck…” Riko integrated the data from the security office into the visual interface she’d set up, which showed a galaxy of blinking dots superimposed on the schematic for the building.

“Why in hellfire are there so many fucking guards?” snarled Yoshiko under her breath.

“Corporate espionage, probably,” said Riko. “Keep an eye out for a vent on your left. It oughta be large enough to sneak down to the next floor while avoiding the patrol at the stairs. I’ll tell when to go to avoid the security cameras. We need to keep off the floors themselves as much as possible, because I don’t really have much in the way of information on what night shifts are going on for which business on what floors.”

The vent system got more and more cramped on the lower floors, with more twists and turns. Eventually, the four crawled their way to an opening, which Yoshiko removed as silently as she could, and the four of them jumped down into what appeared to be an office supply closet.

“One more floor. Then we’ll be parallel to the main studio complex for SparkleStar.”

They ducked into the stairwell, descending the stairs as quickly as they could muster. Yoshiko took point as they carefully made their way around the patrols circling the musical center of the label. Ruby popped up to check the in-session light, which was off. Yoshiko checked inside the door, peeking her head in.

“Dark as a starless night. She’s not in there.”

“If she’s not in the studios, she’s probably in her office,” said Riko, re-checking over the intel on her toughpad. It’s on the opposite side of the building, one floor down.”

“Let’s head there, then,” You started up, checking around the corner. Riko’s eyes were still on the tablet, and they suddenly grew wide with fear.

“You-chan! Wait!” hissed Riko, grabbing at You’s sleeve. The sudden force unseated her, and You turned on one ankle, accidentally knocking over a large potted plant on the other side of their hiding place, which fell over with a large, ceramic-sounding clatter.

“Shit.” They scrambled back behind the wall shelving, in a dark corner, where there wasn’t camera surveillance. You could hear the guards moving closer to their position, and her heart was racing.

“What was that noise?” asked one of the guards to another, in Korean.

“Wanna call it in?”

“I’ll check it out first.”

Riko was breathing heavily, watching the dot on the schematic blip closer and closer to them. Ruby had squeezed her eyes shut, like she was going to burst into tears. The four of them huddled close together.

“Who’s there? Show yourself,” said the guard, shining a flashlight beam, the light of which shone past them and against the wall. Riko had clamped two hands over her mouth. They sat in perilously still silence for several seconds, You’s heart thrumming hard in her eardrums.

“Alright, I’m coming over there.”

Ruby let out a high-pitched meow, so impeccable as to be mistaken for the real thing. The guard stopped in his tracks.

“Huh?”

There was a second guard’s voice now, as the infiltration team was frozen and mute in their position.

“Does someone on this floor have a cat?”

“Yeah.”

“Who?”

“Oh Soo-hyun. Brings it to work every morning in her purse.”

“Doesn’t she work in Payroll?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, man. Maybe the thing wandered up here by accident.”

The guard’s footsteps grew closer and closer. He was practically ten paces away.

“You’re just gonna scare it off if you try to do that, man.”

“Well, I’m gonna go grab it and take it back to her, the thing almost gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“Stop, man.”

Ruby was trembling.

“Lemme circle around and help you, otherwise we’re gonna be chasing it around the floor all night.”

You looked at Riko, who was studying the schematic on the tablet fiercely. One of the dots blipped away at a brisk pace.

They watched the other dot cross around the corner. “Yoshiko,” You whispered, and Yoshiko nodded in apprisal, taking off one glove and flexing her knuckles. They sat with baited breath as the guard drew near to them.

“Now!” Yoshiko leapt up like a shadow and caught the guard with a cross right to his jaw.

Whack.

The force of the suckerpunch knocked him senseless, and You caught him behind the shoulders as his whole body slackened. They dragged him to their hiding spot.

“You, the other guard’s coming back,” Riko said hoarsely. Yoshiko massaged her bruised knuckle and let loose a complex swear under her breath.

“Can you handle one more?” asked You to Yoshiko, who nodded weakly.

The other guard was approaching. From the sound of his footsteps, he was a lot bigger than his companion.

“Here, kitty-kitty~,” he cooed. Yoshiko stepped out, and corkscrewed her whole upper body fiercely into the punch, catching him in the face and knocking him off balance. He backed away, shaken, but still standing. Yoshiko hit him again, dazing him.

“What the f—” Ruby hooked one boot behind his leg and swept it out from under him, and he fell backwards onto the ground, where Ruby grabbed ahold of his leg. Somewhere between the fall and the floor, he had recovered his senses, and the guard flailed, catching Yoshiko in the face with a kick as she attempted to get her weight onto his other leg. He dragged Ruby easily along the ground with just one leg free, and as he raised an arm to punch at her head, You caught him from behind, around his neck and armpit with both legs and arms simultaneously, pulling him into a flawless triangle choke. The thick, iron-hard muscles in her legs tensed, and her butt was arched off the ground as he wriggled, the heat from his neck and head bleeding through the fabric of her suit to her thighs. Eventually his movements slowed as his face took on a red pallor, and his eyes twitched shut, his whole, massive body brought down into unconsciousness.

You was panting, her chest rising and falling. “Are you okay, Yoshiko?” she said.

“By… demonfire…” Yoshiko was nursing a nose steadily dripping blood, and Ruby was visibly shaking.

“Nice thinking, Ruby-chan,” said You, managing a weak smile. “Riko, where’s Nishikino’s office?”

“J-just over on this corridor.”

“Okay. Yoshiko, Ruby, stash the guards in that office supply room and then take a second. We’ll be back with Maki in tow.”

The party divided into two groups, one heading back toward the supply room, and the other heading to the opposite end of the floor, dodging in and out of the vision of the security cameras.

Riko and You flanked the open doorway, and when You peeked out to see where in her office Maki currently was, she didn’t see her. Instead, Maki’s voice greeted them, to their horror, and You knew their job would be made much more difficult.

“Who’s there?” she asked, in perfect, unaccented Korean. She waited for a minute or so, then repeated her question in Japanese.

“Nishikino Maki?” asked You cautiously. Maki stiffened at hearing her old name.

“W-where did you hear that name?”

“We’re not your enemies.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m coming out,” You said. She signaled to Riko; she would lead Maki around and then Riko would ambush her from behind, which would be enough to get her off the floor. They could explain later.

You retreated out from behind the door, her arms up. “Hey. I’m unarmed.”

Nishikino Maki was tall and had a proud stance, dressed in an impeccable pantsuit. Her hair, although cropped short, was the same fiery-red color it has been when she had still been with u’s. In a sense, she looked almost identical to everything You had ever seen of u’s, the haughty and talented brains behind the music—the stubborn, unflinching center that u’s needed if they were going to reunite. You understood why Nozomi needed her first. If Nozomi could win Maki back over to her side, to the side of revolution, it would be easier to pick up the others.

Maki eyed her. “Who are you? Are you CIA?”

“I’m a friend,” said You. She began circling around to the side, but Maki immediately backed against a wall. Next to her was a visible panel on the wall that had slid upwards, revealing an orange button and a switch below it.

Of her own volition, Riko dashed as fast as she could, black-bag in hand, but she came face to face with the barrel of a gun.

“You have ten seconds to tell me who you are, what you are, and who sent you.”

You took a steadying breath. “We were sent by Toujou Nozomi to retrieve you. We’re idols in exile too.”

“Bullshit! Nozomi-chan died in Berlin years ago, the last job u’s ever worked. What are you, bounty hunters?”

“We’re not. N-Nozomi’s alive,” said Riko, eyeing the shiny silvered action of the firearm.

“And she sent you?”

“Yes.”

Maki cocked her head slightly, her brow furrowed. “If she sent you, what was she like?”

“A couple burns on her ear. Soft-spoken. Had kind of a weird sense of humor.”

“Define weird.”

“She, um, grabbed my breasts to make a point?” Not actually a lie, You thought to herself.

Maki sighed, her brow furrowed. Her voice was a little softer when she spoke next. “Where is she?”

“Thailand. Well, probably not in Thailand anymore, but she was disguised as a nun.”

Maki paused, the Walther leveled between Riko’s eyes. A bead of sweat dripped down Riko’s nose. Everyone was still for a moment.

You thought to herself furiously for a second or two. It would have been more believable if they _had_ been bounty hunters.

“Shit. You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”

Riko and You nodded. “We’re not really here to kidnap you. We’re here to, um, escort you away,” Riko added, some semblance of steadiness returning to her voice.

“Christ.” Maki lowered the gun, looking over Riko, a subtle spark of affection in her investigative eyes. “It’s like staring in a mirror. You’re the composer, aren’t you?”

Riko swallowed painfully. “Y-yes.”

Maki sighed. “I can’t kill a composer. Fine, I’ll hear you out.”

You explained their mission, shakily, to an incredulous Maki. She shook her red-haired head.

“Those days’re behind us. The world's different now. What possible impact could µ’s bring about?"

"Nozomi's got a bigger plan for everybody," said You.

"No. It's futile."

“Not to Nozomi-chan.”

“Nothing’s really impossible to her.”

“Look, at least she understood how important all this was for you,” said You, waving around the office. “You’re working as a composer. Music and idolhood will always be in your blood.”

“Fuck.” Maki rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You have no idea how much work I’ve put into building my new life—how much I’ve given up. You really want to go back to that? To commit to running and hiding, with people who don’t even want to see me again?”

“Otherwise, you’ll just be stuck in a cold office. Making soulless, fascist anthems. No friends, no life to speak of. But if I were going through hell, I’d at least want my friends on my side.” From the corner of You’s eye, Riko trembled, thinking of her own fate.

"You weren't stuck in the thick of it, were you?" asked Maki. "When the purges started. Look, there aren't words to describe what kind of horror that was. Hiding from the idol-killers. There was no network to speak of, nothing that was we could turn to in order to keep ourselves safe. Some groups lost half their members. For others..." Maki trailed off. Her head snapped to her desk, and she retrieved something small from the underside of the top drawer.

Maki held up a thumb drive. “This is a virus commissioned by the USNSA. It contains a payload that, when deployed, rerouts all information incoming and outgoing to an American government server. It was designed by me, in order to break IdolWild. I’ve been stonewalling them for two years, saying that its encryption was too powerful for me to break. I don’t even know if they have any idea who I actually am. Look, I want to trust you. If you are who you say you are, you’re not taking me to a safehouse. You’re going to take me to meet Nozomi-chan. If you can’t do that, I upload this and kill IdolWild. Understand?”

“W-we don’t know where she is, actually,” stammered Riko.

The display on Riko’s toughpad suddenly lit up, and it caught her attention. Her face froze in horror.

“You, w-w-we need to move. The security alarm is going off.”

“Damn it. I thought we dealt with those guards.”

Maki shifted a little. “I, um, maybe, umm, set a timer when I heard you scuffling out there. I thought you were spies.”

“We’re not gonna have enough time to get to the front door,” Riko said, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “We’re gonna have to head to the roof. There’s no way we’ll get through all those guards.”

“Well, there’s no time to argue about it now,” said You. She grabbed Maki’s hand. “We’ll have to run.” You took off in a brisk run, dragging Maki along.

“Wait,” said Maki, thrusting her hand aside. “We can still use the elevators.” She pulled a small golden key out from her keyring.

Yoshiko and Ruby came running down the hallway. “Th-the guards are swarming up the staircase!” Ruby squeaked.

They piled into the elevator in the hallway, and the door slid closed. Maki inserted the golden key, turned it, and the elevator chugged upwards, smoothly. _Destination, Penthouse Floor._

“It’s on express mode. It can’t open.”

“Be ready to run as soon as those doors open,” said You. They watched as the numbers ticked upward, one by one.

Suddenly, the elevator chugged to a stop and the lights turned off. From the nearest floor, they could hear the whine of sirens as the fire alarm started.

"Shit. Yoshiko!"

"The strength of Yohane is needed!" Yoshiko yelled, planting both feet and helping You pry upon the doors. The elevator car was misaligned with the floor. Ruby clambered through the small opening, and pulled Maki up to the floor by her wrist. They were close to the top, racing to the staircase and running as fast as they could muster to the top floor.

When they finally reached it, the floor closest to the roof, they bolted out the doors, and all You could hear was the steady pounding of their feet on the carpeted floor, tugging Maki along by her wrist, a damp sweat on her palm. They rounded the golden corridors of the penthouse floor, eventually finding the door to the roof. “There!” Maki pointed.

Thrusting her shoulder against it, You cranked the knob and threw it open, instantly greeted by a rush of chilly night air against her damp forehead.

“Dia, do you copy? Start the van now!”

You handed Maki an extra harness and a carabiner, clipping her to the climbing wire. Ruby accompanied her across, and then Yoshiko, Riko, and You bringing up the rear. You thought she could hear pounding footfalls of security personnel coming through the open roof door behind her.

A blue, pulsating flash was radiating on the side of Yoshiko’s face, as she climbed down the fire escape.

“Shit, the fucking cops!”

The sirens were creeping along the street, growing closer, the wailing echoing down the road. You was only partway down the fire escape, nearing the final stretch of ladder, before seeing the bright blue lights at the end of the alleyway.

Kanan was leaning out the window. “You-chan, just jump!”

There was a massive thump as You hit the top of the van. She tucked her feet inside the open window and slid her body in, falling into Dia’s lap, as Kanan slammed her foot on the gas, letting the tires squeal.

Kanan cranked the wheel and the van arced out onto the road, the chassis bouncing hellishly. The van shot past the oncoming police cars.

You had her eyes shut, but when she opened them, she saw that no police were following them.

A round of bright congratulation followed, as the infiltration team caught their breath, momentarily winded. Ruby squeezed Yoshiko’s hands warmly.

“I can’t believe that we made it,” said Riko. “We made it!” She giggled breathlessly, and threw her arms around Chika, catching up to her desperate, pounding pulse.

Dia gave You a regal pat on the head, as if to say, “Good work.”

One by one, their attention was drawn to the ninth girl in the car, the older girl in formal businesswear, whom they had just stolen out of her life in the real world.

The orange-haired girl extended one hand in a gesture of greeting, as if four of her operatives didn’t just kidnap her out of an office building. Nevertheless, Maki took her hand good-naturedly.

“Hi!” said Chika. “We’re Aqours!”

Maki managed a shy wave and a smile.

Kanan pulled the bag-laden car around in the motel parking lot, and they gave Maki a change of clothes and her new identity, and they headed south, cutting through the thick of the city. It was the time of night where much of the traffic had thinned, but the city retained its inimitable brightness. They passed Myeongdong, where the neon signs cast strange and unfamiliar colors onto Kanan’s face through the van windows.

Eventually, the lights of the glittering metropolis of Seoul steadily dimmed in their rearview mirrors. They left the city, the first objective of a seemingly-impossible mission completed. For the first time in a while, You thought back on everything Nozomi had said, she felt like it was possible.

Aqours was sleeping in a tired, drained pile in the back of the van. Dia had taken over driving, so Kanan could get some rest, curled in a tight ball in the passenger seat. You felt too anxious to sleep, thinking over how today was mostly just a lucky miss. In the future, they would have to be more careful. Maki was sitting across from her, likewise unable to sleep.

“Hey, You,” said Maki. The van hit a bump in the road. The dim lights from passing cars flashed across Maki’s stern face.

“Hey, Maki-senpai.”

"You kinda remind me of Minami Kotori."

Minami Kotori? The second-in-command of Aqours by seniority.

"I don't really know anything about her. I know about Yazawa Nico, and you, and Kousaka Honoka. Nozomi, too. But..."

"Yeah, that makes sense. She was always the cute one. She flew under the radar for appearance alone when we were back together. But during the first part of the Exodus, she shined. If not for Kotori, we would all be dead."

"So, what, I look cute but I'm actually useful?" You asked, through a soft chuckle.

Maki ran a hand through her hair. "No, someone willing to put in the brute work to see something to its end. And it's that feeling that makes me think we have a chance--a real, actual chance of winning."

Revolution was on the horizon.


	3. The Thief

The safehouse was a farmstead in western Chungnam, near the waterfront.

To their surprise, Mari was there, waiting with Nozomi, who had ditched her nun’s habit for a more rustic shirt-and-skirt combo. Mari greeted them shrilly.

“Heylo!”

Maki was reduced to tears after seeing Nozomi, and she squeezed her into a firm embrace and refused to let go for a while. After a round of hugs and general goodwill, Nozomi whispered something in her ear that You didn’t catch, and Maki nodded, and wiped her smeared makeup and tears away.

“Are you ready to catch your next target?”

Nozomi handed over two envelopes, each containing their next deposit and the dossier on…

“Ayase Eri. Choreographer and contractor. Far from harmless, she’s stoic, protective to a fault, and ruthless when backed into a corner,” Nozomi said, a touch of syrupy affection in her voice and a blush on her face. “Unfortunately, this won’t be as easy as picking up Maki.”

Aqours gathered around in a loose circle, You sitting backwards in her chair.

“The Bratva have known Eri’s identity since our last botched job in Berlin. She works for them, utilizing the contacts she made during the first part of our exile, primarily overseeing shipments of contraband in the greater parts of Eurasia. She has their respect and their protection so long as she is useful to them. Should she fail, at any point, to bring her abilities truly to bear, they will immediately turn her in. Similarly, the Bratva will not hesitate to cast her aside in the event of any complications. It is absolutely imperative that you catch and retrieve her here, because if she gets away from you, it’s… a death sentence for her.” Nozomi’s voice was quavering as she finished her sentence.

You nodded. “So, what do you think’ll be easiest?”

Honoka, still with her icy demeanor, brought them a large map showing criss-crossing lines across much of Central Asia and Russia. Nozomi looked very excited. “Simple. You’re going to rob a train.

“Eri is aboard a train heading southwest out of Yakutsk, carrying illegally-manufactured weaponry to be sold to terrorist groups operating in Central Asia. Given that you yourselves are terrorists, you will appropriate some of those goods to the ends of reconvening u’s. The train will probably not be heavily guarded: two, maybe three guards per each hot car, a conductor, an engineer, Eri’s handler, likely a low-ranking vory-v-zakone, and your target herself. You’ll assault the train before it reaches the southern tip of Krasnoyarsk Krai, carry off Eri, and whatever weapons you can get your hands on.”

Maki poured a glass of whiskey in the background. “Maybe I should come along,” she posited, swirling the caramel-colored liquid around the glass, letting the ice cubes clink. “It took a lot of convincing to get me out of that office. Wouldn’t seeing a familiar face help?”

“No,” said Nozomi forcefully. “Your safety is paramount. Besides, you’ve been tempered in different situations in exile. At this moment, Eri is ruled more than ever by paranoia. If you came along, Eri would merely believe you had been swayed to work for the idol-killers and bounty hunters. If we want her, Aqours is going to have to fight.”

“Hmph,” Maki said, taking a swig from her considerably-filled glass. “I feel useless not on the front line.”

“Not all fighting is done on the front lines. I need your tech experience here,” said Nozomi. “You have contacts that can put us in closer range to our other targets.”

“Except for maybe a half dozen people, all my contacts are CIA or NSA plants, all of whom are already aware I’m AWOL,” Maki grumbled.

“Then work on finding new ones. Chika-chan, as captain, you understand what has to be done, yes?”

Chika nodded. “I think, for a job of this size, all of Aqours needs to come along. Hanamaru has medic skills, we’ll need her on standby, if not in the action.”

Hanamaru nodded. “Understood, zura.”

“We can spare two girls for each car with guns, I think,” You figured out loud. “Six girls oughta do it.”

“How’re we getting on the train itself?” asked Dia.

“We could stop the train,” said Kanan. “That’d be easiest.”

Maki shook her head. “Russia took a page out of the U.S.’s book for antiterrorism methods, which includes countermeasures for railfreight. Stopping a train will just set off every alarm bell from there to Moscow, and then we’d have the military to contend with.”

“What about derailing it?” asked Ruby. “Is there a way to do that, um, safely?”

The red-haired composer inspected the pocket rosary she’d twisted around her wrist. “Not without slowing it to a crawl first. You’re going to have to get on the train while it’s moving.”

“Why not just leap onto the train from a car moving along it?” asked Yoshiko, her face in a wild grin. “Like hussars, on dark wings.”

Everyone looked at each other. Nozomi stifled a small giggle.

“You’re kidding me,” said Chika.

*

“This is absolutely insane,” said Chika. She was sitting in the back of a flat-bed truck that You had acquired with some of their stipend. The sky was a dark grey, overcast. They were waiting alongside the train tracks, in a stretch of treeless flatland they had figured the best for hijacking. It was a crisp, rocky cold, devoid of snow.

“It is,” said You, her breath visible in white curls in the frosty air. “Button up your coat, Chika-chan, you’ll catch cold.” With her and Chika were Yoshiko, Ruby, Mari, and Kanan. Hanamaru, Riko and Dia were bundled up in the cabin, with Dia having taken over wheelman duties.

Mari shivered loudly, pulling the edges of her heavy windbreaker around herself. “Brrrr! I wish I were back in Italy.”

“And miss out on the fun?” asked Yoshiko. “For one, I, the Fallen Angel Yohane, greatly appreciate your presence on this errand, Mari-san.”

Mari kicked her feet, playfully pouting, causing the chassis of the truck to wiggle slightly.

“Everybody’s clear on the plan, right?” asked Chika. “Move fast towards the head of the train. There’ll be guards in each of the wagons along the way; disable them as fast as you can. We deal with any crates we can carry only when we have Ayase-san with us.”

“You-chan. It’s here,” said Kanan, studying the horizon with binoculars. She handed them over to You.

Through the binoculars, You could see the multi-colored shape of the train beginning to wriggle out of the horizon. It grew closer and closer by the second. You thumped on the roof of the truck cabin, giving them the signal to start. The hussars in the back of the truck held on to whatever they could manage as Dia brought the truck up to speed slowly on the frozen, uneven ground.

They were moving fast now, the frosty air burning at You’s cheeks. Dia let the truck glide closer and closer to the tracks. The sound of the tires crunching rocks and frozen earth and the rumbling of the engine filled You’s ears, and the chassis was bouncing, causing it to swerve and lose momentum.

“Slow and steady, Dia!” Kanan said into the walkie; the airstream was too loud for them to yell into the cabin from the windows. The truck came closer to the tracks, beginning to touch the edge of the ramped earth that flanked the tracks on either side as You, and the rest of her team, shifted their weight onto their feet and prepared the jump. With the train only about a hundred meters behind them, they had to be ready.

Their target, looming menacingly like a great mechanical snake, rumbled past them with a considerable head of speed, the grinding sound of its wheels on the cold tracks deafening in You’s ears.

“Yoshiko! Go!!”

*

With each of them vaulting cleanly, falling onto the skirt walkway on each wagon, they began their assault. The last was Mari, holding up the rear.

You and Chika entered their first car, which was empty. The rumbling of the wagon on the tracks was loud, and the air inside the car was frigid. They climbed over crates to reach the opposite door, leading them to the walkway again.

They repeated this once.

Then twice.

The third car was occupied. As Chika pushed the door open with her shoulder, she heard a shout, and a black-clad thug fumbled with the submachine gun at his belt. Moving across the car, You was faster, hitting him behind his knees and dropping him to the floor before pummeling him into unconsciousness. Chika struck the other in the stomach and pulled him into a backward-facing headlock, choking him until his body went limp.

There was a moment of silence as both You and Chika confirmed their victory before moving to the far door. Before Chika could put her hand on the crank handle, the bright, sharp chatter of machine gun fire sounded from several cars behind them. Their cover was blown.

Chika met with a Bratva thug on the skirt walkway, attempting to point his gun at her. She ducked as the deafening crack of gunfire sounded in a bright sweep. You, with one boot on the top of the skirt, vaulted and hit him as hard as she could, feeling his jaw dislocate on impact.

“C’mon, Chika, we gotta keep moving.”

Emerging from the back of the train, they came upon Yoshiko and Ruby, finishing up dealing with several Bratva members, and tying their wrists and legs behind them. “Ayase’s probably up closer to the head of the train,” said Chika. “How far are we from the front?”

You did some mental math. “Maybe twelve cars.”

At the next car they met with Yoshiko and Ruby. They reconvened in a group, and moved up to the next car, the burning wind howling as they moved along the skirt walkway outside of the wagon car. Yoshiko threw open the door, and they were met with the sight of their target.

Ayase Eri.

She was standing alongside a taller man in a gray coat. Her blond hair had lost no degree of sheen, still tied up behind her head in a lofty, swishing ponytail. She was dressed in normal-looking, somewhat rugged winter clothes, a long green coat, black fingerless gloves, pants tucked into black boots. Eri turned to look at them, bright, feral eyes glaring over a thick, ropey scar running across the bridge of her nose. Aqours stood at attention at one end of the car.

The taller man twitched, and pulled a handgun from his belt to point it at Aqours. He barked something at Eri, who responded in similarly harsh Russian. The Stechkin was leveled with You’s chest. You squared herself, ready to break formation.

There was a whirl of activity. Eri moved faster than You imagined she could, grabbing her boss’s wrist and disarming him, unloading the gun in his hand and sending it skidding across the floor. The vor could only manage a shout as Eri kicked out one of his feet, grabbed his head, and kneed him square in the face. There was a wet-sounding crack as his nose broke, and he dropped to the floor, out cold.

“Is this all they sent?” Eri asked. In their time apart, her Japanese had grown throaty and dull-edged, accented by the sharp consonance of Russian. “What a poor lot.”

“We’re not here to fight!” called Chika. The ensuing silence was punctuated by the rocking of the wagon car on frost-warped tracks. Eri’s would-be kidnappers undulated in their loose formation.

She removed her long, dull-green coat. Below it, she was wearing a nondescript turtleneck, which she also opted to discard, revealing just a tank top. Her arms and chest were patterned with blue-black tattoos; a Madonna-and-child on her left arm, striped onion domes rising between her breasts, stars peeking out at the ends of her collarbone. You realized that she had mistaken the black shapes on her hands. They weren’t gloves.

It was boxing tape.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Eri said wryly. “Come. Kill me if you can.”

You and Yoshiko leapt forward at the same time, and Eri met them her uncanny speed in the middle of the car. Eri wasn’t just fast, she was impossibly tough, parrying away or blocking Yoshiko’s aggressive, bursting assault. When Yoshiko came to a slight pause, Eri returned her aggression tenfold, drilling her with punches on her upper body, tearing apart her defense and dazing her, every blow landing with a solid-sounding thud into Yoshiko’s flesh. At the same time, You attacked from behind, attempting to get Eri into a headlock, which Eri twisted out of, turning on one heel and tossing You bodily. She slammed into one of the crates, falling to the ground. Eri stretched her neck, cracking it audibly.

The second assault was Ruby and Chika. Chika was a slow attacker, defense-oriented, causing Eri to circle her and advance threateningly before meeting her head-on. She pummeled Chika mercilessly, unrelenting, as Chika struggled to keep up with the rain of punches, slowly leading Eri to a corner.

“Ruby!”

Ruby attacked from behind, moving lightning-quick in a zig-zagging serpentine pattern. Before Chika could fall away to the ground, Eri lost her balance attempting to throw a cross as Ruby physically pulled her by her leg backward. As Eri fell, Yoshiko came back and hit her two, three, four times in the back, but Eri rolled, meeting Yoshiko with an elbow to the face, and grabbed Ruby with one hand around her throat, squeezing it tight. You managed to pull Eri’s attention off Ruby, releasing her grip, but Eri caught You with a hook across her jaw, and she saw stars before falling to the ground.

Everyone panted for a second, Chika rising slowly, her hands on her knees, You swaying as she got to her feet, Ruby coughing loudly. Yoshiko spat a mouthful of blood on the wagon car floor and smiled a berserker grin, her teeth tinted red.

And at the front of them was Eri, already having regained her constitution, bouncing on her toes, keeping up a loose and flexible boxing stance.

“Fuck,” said Yoshiko. “She’s a true demon. It’s like hitting a wall.”

They tried again, attacking all at once in a diamond flank. Eri was struck several times, but she whirled around, forcing Ruby away, and landing two decisive blows on Chika’s stomach. Seeing an opening, You attacked from behind and pulled Eri into a half nelson, as she thrashed around with one free arm. Yoshiko spat a mouthful of blood in her eyes, attempting to blind her, but Eri jumped, her boots managing purchase on the wagon wall, and flipped over You, slamming her into the ground with the full weight of her upper body. Ruby and Chika readied themselves to attack again. Eri glared at them, dark blood splattered across her eyes.

Suddenly, the wagon door opened, and Eri turned her head to see Kanan coming up from the previous car. Kanan leapt immediately into a flying punch, and Eri caught her with a clothesline, instantly breaking her momentum. Kanan shook herself back to readiness, and leapt towards Eri again.

Kanan was herself strong and solidly built, and years of constant swimming and exercise kept her in peak shape. But at her core, she wasn’t as fierce of a brawler as Eri proved, and Eri wore her down with a flurry of hits. She dropped to one knee. As she steeled herself to redouble her attack, Eri hit her with a savage spin kick to her jaw, and Kanan fell to the ground, unconscious. Chika and Ruby resumed their assault again, but Mari dropped both of them with a punch to the abdomen. There was silence in the wagon, the structure rocking back and forth slightly, cold air bleeding into the interior, as Eri stood, breathing deeply in her victory. A shape darkened the light coming from the open door.

“Very impressive!” Mari’s voice came amongst the sounds of grinding rails and icy air whipping alongside the wagon car.

She came to Kanan’s aid on the ground, felt her neck, and listened to her chest, issuing a sigh of relief when she heard Kanan’s audible breath. Mari took off her coat, and tucked it around the unconscious Kanan. When she rose to her feet, she and her opponent came face to face with one another, basically the same height. Mari untied the bow in her hair, and tied it back in a ponytail, mirroring Eri’s look. From the side, as they opposed one another, they looked like long-lost twins, both tall, with flaxen hair, large chests and strong-set hips and thighs. Their boots squeaked on the floor as they circled on another. Mari met Eri’s gaze, returning one capricious and venomous in response to her crazed, savage look. You scrambled up to a prone position, trying to catch the hollow rasp of breath in her bruised chest,  to watch their inevitable clash.

“You beat up my Kana-chan,” said Mari, her voice tinged with a steely edge. You was shocked to hear the playfulness having drained from her tone, replaced with something sinister. “I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget.” She rolled up her sleeves, sinking into a loose boxing stance. Eri tensed and untensed her knuckles, taking a deep breath.

They met like a head-on collision, their punches landing with thick-sounding thumps against flesh and bone. For all her aggression, Eri was the more defensively-oriented of the two blond fighters, and she fielded more punches than she threw. Both girls gave up their guard and savagely attacked with every ounce of strength they had, the muscles in Mari’s forearms ropelike and tense as she threw punch after punch into Eri’s chest, face, and shoulders. Eri attacked with staggered flurries, dodging, while Mari threw heavy hits in steady succession, each one slowing Eri considerably when it landed. There were dark bruises spotting on their skin; blood was running from a laceration on the side of Mari’s face, and Eri was sporting a fresh ring of blue contusion around her left eye.

Eri struck Mari with an uppercut, and she immediately slackened, unsteadily moving around, before regaining her composure. With not enough strength to manage a fully stacked offense and defense, Mari lunged at Eri and grabbed her around her midsection, kneeing her in her abdomen again and again. In response, Eri pummeled her undefended back, as Mari managed to pull her to the ground.

There was an odd moment as Mari held her there, and both girl took no action. Mari pulled herself off of Eri and beamed at her, but Eri met this expression of good will with a blow right to her cheek.

With that, Mari sank to the ground, breathing heavily, but ten seconds later, Eri followed her.

The two sat against the wall, their legs out, side by side, panting with ragged breath. Eventually, with no real start, Mari began laughing, a soft, desperate-sounding laugh, and Eri joined in, laughing with her.

“Wow,” said Eri. “You’re pretty tough.”

“You too,” said Mari, her voice still managing to be high-pitched and sylvan, even in her battered state.

Eri reached for her coat, which was laying on the floor near Mari, and retrieved a trampled soft-pack of cigarettes, retrieving a crumpled specimen, then offering the pack to Mari, who took one as well. She attempted to strike a match against the wagon floor, but her knuckles were too stiff from the beating she had given everyone in the wagon moments earlier.

“Let me,” said Mari sweetly, and she struck the match swiftly. The tip burst into ignition with a green corona, settling down into an orange flame, and Mari lit her combatant’s cigarette, and then her own. She exhaled a soft cloud of bluish-gray smoke, and the acrid smell of tobacco perfumed the small space.

“You’re idols, aren’t you?” asked Eri. “The way you move… the way you fight.”

You crawled up onto her arms, coughing loudly. She was sore all over, but nothing felt broken. Eri, sitting next to Mari, looked remarkably small.

“I haven’t met another idol since back when I was in Germany. To attack in waves as you do… it looks so fluid and natural. You must have been a stellar group, in the days before.”

“We need you to come back to µ’s,” said Mari.

Eri seemed too tired to react in shock, merely shaking her head weakly. “No. I can’t.”

“You can,” said Mari softly. “You’re still an idol in spirit. Your footwork is so pretty!”

Eri laughed a little in response to this. “Well, maybe.”

“If you wouldn’t do it for you, would you do it for somebody else?”

She looked over at Mari. “Who? Who do I have left to fight for?”

Mari’s eyes were simultaneously impish and comforting. “Well, Nozomi-chan would like to see you again.”

“What?” Eri looked up. “Nozomi-chan died in Berlin. I was there. I saw it.” Her voice broke. “I c-c-caused it.”

Mari blew another cloud of cigarette smoke out from her nostrils. “She’s alive. She’s every bit as cute as those photos from Love Live.” Mari unbuckled one of the containers on her belt and took out a tiny package, handing it over to Eri, who stowed her cigarette in her mouth. “No…” she said softly, her eyes glassy, and tears began to roll down her cheeks.

In her hand, she held a lock of Nozomi’s soft purple hair, clearly freshly-cut. It won Eri over immediately.

She cried loudly for a few minutes, wailing like a newborn child, the sound pitiful and strained in the wagon, as Mari put an arm around her.  
“A-all this time… I thought I’d killed her…”

Eventually, her cries died down a little. She wiped some of the blood and tears from her bruised face with one equally bruised arm, and looked up, with red, puffy eyes, in Mari’s face.

“What’s your name?”

Mari smiled a wide smile, and gave her a little peace sign with her fingers. “Ohara Mari!” she said, her tone scintillating.

“Have you ever killed anyone before, Ohara-san?” asked Eri.

“No.”

“You should be prepared to. Coming back to µ’s isn’t a reunion. It’s a declaration of war.”

The walkie at You’s belt crackled to life with Riko’s voice. “You-chan! Commander! Do you copy?!”

“Copy that, Riko. You here, over.”

“We’re running out of flat area to keep driving near the track, and the next area isn’t for a couple of miles. We’ll have to get back on the road to keep going. Please tell me you’ve got Ayase with you, over.”

You looked at Eri, currently being embraced by a placid and touchy Mari. Kanan was waking up, groggily, and Ruby and Chika were stirring themselves up. Ruby squeaked, attempting to put weight on one of her legs, and You slung one of Ruby's arms over her neck.

“She’s with us, over.”

Eri looked over at her. “I can stop the train by radioing for a rail change and emergency maintenance at the railyard in Krasnoyarsk. Tell the rest of your operatives to rendezvous at the waystation. We can offload as many of the guns as we want there.”

You relayed her message.

“Nozomi-chan’s gonna be happy. This sounds like a total success, over.”

“Yousoro. Over and out.”


	4. The Fanatic, pt. I

“Oh my god” were the first words out of Riko’s mouth when she saw the battered landing party coming out of the wagon car, the rear being brought up by Chika, helping a limping Ruby along. Hanamaru treated the nasty cut on Mari’s cheek, Kanan’s very minor concussion, and reset Ruby’s dislocated ankle, but otherwise, they managed to clear their second job without any major injuries.

Before long, Nozomi and Honoka arrived, and they managed fourteen crates as Eri distracted the engineer at the head of the train.

There was a moment where time stood still, Eri holding Nozomi, tears streaming down her face silently, almost refusing to let go.

They hit the road again, stopping to offload their cargo onto a private trucking service Nozomi had contracted, while they headed into Kazakhstan towards a private airstrip in Astana to secure transport to their next target. When Aqours, plus Eri and Nozomi, were all boarded, Nozomi handed over the envelope for their next target.

“Here. I have your next assignment, as well as your payment. This one has no time constraints, so rest up and let your injuries heal before heading out. You’ll need every ounce of strength.”

You opened the envelope to find drone surveillance photos, black and white, of a somewhat short Japanese woman in sunglasses and a surgical mask, wrapped in a sand shawl and cargo pants, holding an AK-47, rubbing shoulders with men in bandanas and boots, all armed with assault rifles.

“Yazawa Nico. A fanatic the idol world wasn’t prepared for.”

Eri took one of the photos from You and gazed at it, studying its contents. “When was this taken, Nozomi-chan?”

“Sixteen days ago. Nico is the current head of the most dangerous splinter group of South African anarchists, our comrades, the International Makhnovites, colloquially known as the Kriekets. Active since the fall of apartheid, recently resurged with a vengeance following the Exodus, but their numbers are thinning against the Namibian and South African fascist regimes.”

“She certainly looks as if she’s having fun, though,” said Eri, poring over the photo.

“Doesn’t this hurt the Kriekets’ cause, zura?” asked Hanamaru.

“For the time being, yes, which is why we’ve agreed to a trade of a certain sort. The Kriekets have no qualms about changing leaders, but they need some show of support for the loss of Yazawa Nico. There’s a safety deposit box in a bank in Johannesburg. We are to retrieve it for the Kriekets, and Nico will join us in our fight.”

Dia looked a little worried. “Don’t you think this is a job better attempted later on, when we have more members of µ’s on our side?”

Nozomi took a deep breath. “You could be right, but ultimately it’s a problem, to be sure. We’ll need to take harder jobs to tackle more specialized ones, and I don’t need to stress how invaluable an asset Nico could be. She’s a master of stealth, armaments, and most importantly, explosives. The cause of reuniting u’s directly assaults fascism across the world. We will pay the Kriekets back tenfold for helping Nico stay safe during these trying times.”

Their flight lasted hours, stopping in Istanbul and again in Nairobi, before they touched down in Johannesburg.

*

There was thick sunlight cutting through the dusty air. You stared out of the window, grimy with dust and grease. People dotted the sidewalk below, multicolored shapes trickling around corners along the wide roads, the sounds of car horns and squeaking tires intermixed. You was thinking of the sounds of the train wagon, the grinding, mechanical noise of the wheels on the rails, filling every corner of her head as she idly drew a star in the dust of the sill. They’d been here two weeks.

Ruby was awake. Her eyes were red, and had little dark circles under them. She rubbed one absentmindedly while giving a weak smile to You.

“Did you sleep at all?”

Ruby shook her head, red twintails wiggling. You pulled a soft t-shirt over her head.

“I was gonna go grab some food down the block. Wanna come with? My Afrikaans is super rusty.”

“That sounds fun.”

They made their way down the street and headed around the corner, past the watch shop and the internet cafe, towards the food stand with the outdoor smoker. The smell of meat was fresh in the air, whetting You’s appetite, so she and Ruby bought boerie rolls, with juniper-flavored spiced sausage and relish, and wandered around the thick of the city as the morning sun beat down on them. Eventually they found a bench to sit down on.

“Hey. You’re quiet,” said You, smiling brightly. “What’s up?” She tugged at Ruby’s sleeve with a playful air.

Ruby was chewing thoughtfully. "I'm... a little worried."

"About what?"

“Sometimes I wonder that I don’t have what it takes. Not like… you, You-chan. Or Kana-chan. Or Dia-oneechan.”

“What? Really? Where’d this come from?”

Ruby swallowed, and shook her head dismissively.

”No, you have what it takes. You didn’t see how upset I got when Chika was happy over Riko-chan. I felt useless.” You squeezed Ruby’s hand with a firm grip. “You’ll always have something you can contribute as a member of Aqours. All of us have that thing.”

Ruby was looking in the opposite direction from You. She was shaking a little.

“And we’ve all come through in different ways, Ruby. I mean, I think you’ve made the most progress out of all of us. You used to squeak and run and hide, but you’ve tackled challenges most people haven’t ever had to do in their whole lives—”

“I k-killed somebody,” Ruby stammered, abruptly, her face pale.

You stared at her.

“On th-the train. I don’t think Yoshiko saw. I hit his head really hard against the wall, and when I ch-checked him, he wasn’t breathing. There was b-b-blood coming out of his ears.”

You was quiet for a bit. There was a touch of horror fluttering in her chest at Ruby’s words, within the still serenity of the beating sun and the slow trickle of pedestrians to and fro.

She stared into the Styrofoam cup filled with coffee weakened to the shade of nougat, swirling it around and seeing the cloudy patterns that formed on the surface. The first thing to ask Ruby that popped into her head was “are you alright,” but just looking at Ruby, one could tell something had horribly turned. Ruby’s face was deadened with an uncharacteristically stern expression. She looked as if she’d already cried, over and over, running her emotions out like a tap until they were dry.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Ruby.” You meant it with every ounce of her being.

Ruby was silent, and very still.

You spoke carefully. “Well, that guy wasn’t doing the world any favors. Keeping Eri hostage, probably trafficking girls for sex slavery?”

“Ohh, I know. He was a bad person. But it’s still hard to think about, y-you know?”

They stood for a while, boerie rolls and coffee in hand. Two military cops went past on the other side of the bustling street, MP5s slung across their back, and You instinctively led Ruby away from them with a firm arm, pulling the edge of her softcap over her face.

“Have you told anybody else?”

“No.”

“Not even Hanamaru? Or your sister?”  
“I couldn’t tell Hanamaru. And D-Dia-oneechan doesn’t need to be worrying about me. I’m not a kid anymore.”

They walked along, passing a bourgeois-looking café. At one of the tables outside, two young women, no older than You, were conversing excitedly in rapid English with thick Afrikaner accents, dressed in glamorous, brightly-colored dresses with sunglasses. It made You think of their outing to Tokyo, so many years ago, to a peaceful time when music and friendship were the only thing on their minds. Something felt thick in her throat when she recalled the jealousy she had felt towards Riko, the sickening feeling of wanting to hurt her and mess her up so Chika would stop her relentless interest in her. A different time—maybe easier, maybe not, but at least she had gotten to see her dad when she was so twisted by her own feelings. She was older now. More lost, maybe.

“Half of it bothers me so much I want to throw up. But the other half feels like nothing’s wrong, and that scares me even more.”

“It’s war, Ruby. Exactly like what Eri said. I don’t blame you or judge you for anything you, or anybody else, has to do to stay alive. But most of all, I believe in you, okay?”

“H-How… how can you believe in me? When you know I’ve done something s-so terrible?” asked Ruby. Her query was gentle, but it stung at You’s heart, and she was silent for a moment.

“You can say whatever you want, Ruby, but you’ve been my friend through the Exodus, and that says enough for me to believe in you. You’re doing your Rubesty,” said You, smiling. For an instant, Ruby looked almost comforted, but something unraveled behind her eyes, and she began trembling. You patted Ruby’s head, and Ruby buried her face in You’s chest, crying again, silently jerking, the tears leaving a dark smudge on You’s top. When she was done, You wiped off her face with a spare napkin, dabbing at her cheeks, and Ruby managed a lip-curl of a smile, still cracked and upset; on her face was the acknowledgement that You had meant every word.

“Thank you, You-chan.”

From where they were it was three blocks down to a bakery that Chika loved, and You ordered a big box of koeksisters, as well as a case of coffee, for a handful of rand. Ruby munched on one, silent, sniffling, but visibly more at ease, until they returned to the apartment.


	5. The Fanatic, pt. II

Today was the day. They had chosen to hit the bank early, at the stroke of 9:00 AM, when the doors opened. The sky was already filling with dawn light, even though the sun hadn’t begun climbing above the horizon.

Over the smells of coffee and breakfast, as well as Eri’s cheap Russian cigarettes, Yoshiko checked the action on the AKM. The action had been machined from pig iron, and had a section that was slightly warped, which she was attempting to bend with her fingers. The guns were on loan from the Kriekets themselves, and had been dropped off by two taciturn truckers late last night.

You handed off a handgun to Ruby, who took it gingerly, but with more readiness than You had expected.

“Hey, Ruby. Ruby!” She tapped at Ruby’s shoulder to get her attention. “You don’t have to go in today. Chika already said she’d take your spot if you’re not feeling well.”

“No,” said Ruby. “I’m okay. Besides, Chika doesn’t like carrying guns.”

“Ruby, seriously. If you’re trying to act strong—if you don’t think you—”

“No,” Ruby squeaked, then immediately softened. “Just—just please let me help, You-chan. I think the last thing that I need to do is to sit around. Please just trust me, okay?”

“Okay. I’m sorry, Ruby. I didn’t mean it to come across like that. You’re not useless, and I…” You trailed off, a sentence about how much she cared about her forming on her tongue, without the words to supply it. When she tried to speak again, Nozomi interrupted the two of them.

“I trust you’re all familiar with how to use these?”

Everyone nodded, You included. Nozomi pored over the blueprints of the bank.

“There are two floors. The stairs up from the entrance lead to the offices. The stairs heading down go to the tellers. The vault is on the below-ground floor. It’s timelocked, so it won’t open until 9 AM, which means we’re going to have to hit it when it’s open and full of employees.”

“We don’t have the hardware to cut through a door of that size,” said Kanan. “Somebody’s going to have to get an employee to open the door.”  
“Two nights ago, the Kriekets sent over their list of safety deposit boxes that should be raided.” Eri unfolded a piece of paper that had a list of numbers on it, and passed it to You.

“There’s like, two—no, three dozen numbers on this list,” said You, incredulously. “We’re not going to be able to hit all of them. These seven that’re circled at the top they absolutely need, yeah? What are the rest of these?”

Nozomi shrugged. “I don’t know what’s in all of them, but the Kriekets want them raided and destroyed, if not stolen outright. We’re not in a position that we can refuse a favor for them.”

Nozomi looked at Eri. “You and Mari did a walkthrough two days ago, yes? What’s the security look like?”

Eri pointed at several corners of the blueprint with her lit cigarette, shaking ash onto the paper. “Abnormally high security. Two guards on the floor, both armed. One up on the office level. One near the tellers. Mari thinks there’s a fifth one on the vault level, but we can flush them before hitting the vault. Shouldn’t be a problem if we’re prepared.”

Mari had her face in her hands, staring at the diagram. “Judging by the layout of this hallway here, there has to be a guard on the vault level. Cameras here, here, here, here, and here,” she said, tracing with her finger. “Cameras and security are our first priority.”

“All of these blackguards need to be subdued at the same time if this judgment is to come to fruition,” said Yoshiko. “We can hide the larger weaponry in the bags before we are maneuvered into position.”

“Yeah and even then, somebody needs to take down the cameras.” You sighed. “Jeez. Are we going to have enough hands to pull this off, with six people?”  
“Five,” said Kanan. “I need all the time I can manage to cut the boxes free.”

“I can tell why the Kriekets didn’t want to do this themselves,” sighed You.

“You don’t think it’s doable?” asked Nozomi.

“No,” said Ruby, and they all looked at her. She was perked up and enthusiastic, although You noticed she was shaking. She checked the slide on the Beretta she was holding, letting it snap back into place with a dramatic clack. “It’s doable.”

*

They were waiting in the car. Honoka was their wheelman. Going into the bank were You, Yoshiko, Ruby, Kanan, Mari, and Eri. A mismatched crew of painter’s coveralls.

Through the doors right as the clock chimed nine.

The interior of the bank was an affair with marble and wood, a dual staircase leading up to a grandiose, modernist office complex of interlocking glass plates. Down below, tellers were lined behind a countertop in matching uniforms. Even though the doors had barely opened, a slow trickle of people had already begun to come inside and filter out into different lines.

You kept her head low, the baseball cap over her head. She watched Ruby, Yoshiko, Mari, and Eri move to their respective positions, while she and Kanan moved toward the stairs.

One of the security guards took notice of Yoshiko. “Excuse me? Ma’am?” he asked, politely, but forcefully, in English. “Ma’am, you must take off your hat. Ma’am?”

Eri was still walking to the door, with seconds to go. You watched her surreptitiously retrieve her mask, and a bike lock from the small black duffel she was carrying. Ruby moved up to the floor above, ducking down around a corner to retrieve her mask and the gun.

“Ma’am?” asked the security guard again, his hand moving to his holster. “I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”

Yoshiko put her face down, and quickly, with one motion, flipped her hat off and put on the mask at the same time. The guard was faster, and he drew his gun and pointed it right at Yoshiko.

“Get on the ground! Now!”

Eri brought the butt of the shotgun down on the back of his head, and he crumpled. An employee screamed as Eri stuck a bike lock through the handles and racked them together tightly as Yoshiko pulled the assault rifle from her bag, drew a bead on the security guard in the other corner and moved him against the wall.

There were suddenly dozens of frightened faces.

The ground level guard came rushing around the corner, but You caught him in a headlock while Mari disarmed him. Yoshiko pointed the AKM at each security camera and brought it down with a bullet.

The quick multitude of shots Yoshiko fired into the ceiling left You’s ears ringing, but she barked orders nonetheless.

“Everyone, against the wall, now!” You screamed, in English. “Move!”

The tellers scattered from behind the counter as Mari aimed a hunting shotgun at them.

“Phones. Phones!” Mari yelled, collecting them in the duffel. Up above, Ruby had already lined up the employees and disarmed the guard.

“Kanan, hurry,” said You. Kanan moved to the stairwell door. When she tried to throw it open, the silver knob clacked against a deadbolt without moving.

“Shit.”

“What’s going on?”

“The door to the stairs is locked.”

“Who has the key to the stairs?” You asked a shaking teller. The teller shook her head, tears running down her cheeks.

“It runs on a time-lock like the vault. We don’t have one,” she cried. “You have to page the guard down there, she opens the door.”

There was an instant click of dread in the pit of You’s stomach. This hadn’t been on the blueprints. They weren’t prepared. “Shit. Kanan! Can you cut this door open?”

Kanan pounded on the door with a balled fist, gauging its constitution. “Feels like… three-centimeter-thick reinforced steel. You, I can’t do it, I’d burn through most of the fuel we need for the boxes. I didn’t bring enough for something like this.”

You snapped in anger, scrambling to keep herself from descending into blind panic. “Fuck! Ruby!”

“Y-yeah?” answered Ruby’s voice.

“Get the manager.”

Mari took over watching the guard against the wall as You moved up the stairs, keeping the AKM ready.

Ruby took the manager with a fierce grip.

“Page the guard, and get him to open the door.” You thrust the receiver for a desk phone into the manager’s quivering hands. You realized that she herself was shaking, almost as much as the manager. The inside of the mask was hot and slick with sweat. The gray-haired commander swallowed.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” said You, truthfully. “Page the guard.”

She was a woman in her mid-30s, light-skinned, with long hair. She was paralyzed at the sight of the gun in You’s hands.

“Do it.”

The manager was frozen in fear momentarily, but she took up the phone and punched in the number for the guard’s line. She looked over to where Ruby was standing.

There was an audible click on the other line.

“Please open the door,” she said, through shaking breaths, in Afrikaans. “Please, Julia. They have guns. Yes. No. I-I don’t think so, no.”

You waited, her gun at the ready. Her stomach was plummeting through her guts as she listened in on the brief conversation with the downstairs guard.

“She says she won’t do it. She’s already called the police.”

 _Tap into her fear_ , said a long-since silenced voice in the back of You’s head.

“Do it, or I shoot one of your employees,” said You, not missing a beat. The manager repeated her threat into the phone.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Door’s opening!” Kanan yelled from down on the teller level. She and Mari were around the corner.

You came down the stairs with the manager in tow.

“Eri, watch the front door. Yoshiko, watch the back. Ruby, stay here with the employees.”

“I’m sorry, but I need you to open the vault,” You half apologized, half commanded, as she pulled the manager along by her upper arm, her heels clacking on the steps.

Mari, Kanan, You, and the bank manager rounded the corner and headed down the narrow stairwell towards the vault, turning a corner and coming to the entrance to a short atrium hallway before the vault itself. Mercifully, the armored door had been the only change on their blueprints.

They took cover on either side of the door.

“Hey guard,” shouted Mari, in sing-song English. “Take out your gun, unload it, and slide it across the floor, nice and slow, okay?”

There was a click, and an empty nine-milimeter, sans clip, slid across the gun-metal gray floor by their feet.

“Easy peasy,” said Mari, resting the shotgun against her shoulder, the dimples of her smile showing out the corners of her mask. She came out from behind the corner casually.

You saw it as it happened, almost like it was slow motion. A hole appeared in Mari’s coveralls, just below her left breast, a circular shockwave rippling through the navy-blue fabric. There was a deafening crack, and Mari’s calm expression was suddenly slack.

“Ah,” Mari said weakly. She stumbled slightly, and fell backwards onto the floor.

“No!” Kanan screamed, and You grabbed her shoulder to keep her from rushing out.

The guard moved forward to investigate Mari’s downed body, and You shot out from cover, tackling the guard from the side, pulling her arms behind her back and disarming her. She took the snubnose ankle-holster revolver from the guard and emptied the bullets onto the floor, tossing it aside.

The guard had a pair of cuffs on her belt, so she went ahead and clicked them around her wrists. She turned to the horrified manager.

“Open the vault door,” said You to the manager, who immediately complied. Slowly but surely, the door creaked open.

Kanan punched the guard savagely in the face, knocking her to the ground. She hit her again and again.

“Kanan, stop! She’s cuffed, okay?”

Mari was writhing in pain, coughing loudly. Kanan was crying, distraught. You kneeled down to her.

“I’ll get Mari-chan upstairs and out the building. Kanan. Hey, Kanan! I need you to start cutting the boxes. Please. We don’t have a lot of time.” You thrust the crumpled piece of paper with the box numbers into Kanan’s shaking hand.

Kanan took off her mask, and wiped her eyes. She nodded, her face set. “Please make sure she’s safe.”

You nodded. “I will. Mari, can you walk?”

Mari was rasping and coughing loudly. She pulled off her mask, and fumbled with the zipper of her coveralls. You undid the clasp of her vest, taking some of the pressure off of her chest.

“On three, okay? One, two, three—”

You placed an arm over her shoulder and pulled her to a standing position. Mari’s face instantly dissolved into a mask of pain, and she screamed loudly.

Kanan undid the bag she was carrying and pulled out the rusty oxyacetylene torch, pulling off her mask and affixing a respirator to her face. She assembled the flashback arrestors, and hosed the tanks with tremendous speed.

The two staggered up the steps. There was a crackle of gunfire sounding from upstairs. You kicked the wall button to open the steel stairwell door, and moved through the doorway to the ground floor of the bank.

There was a guard laying face-down in a pool of blood. Several holes peppered his back, weeping lines of red. There was a wave of cold sweat as You passed by the lifeless body on the ground.

“What the f—hey, I need some help with Mari here!” You yelled. Yoshiko rushed over and propped up Mari on her shoulders. You kicked open the side door to the alley, where Honoka was parked, and thumped on the back doors. Instantly, the engine rumbled to life, blue diesel smoke puffing out of the exhaust pipe. “Here,” You said, and they managed to move her into the back of the van. Mari was twitching, still coughing with every breath, wincing in agonizing, ragged sobs.

In the vault, Kanan had worked extremely fast. The boxes were still covered in a sloppy, rumpled layer of dross and hot to the touch, so You and Yoshiko tore up their sleeves and wrapped them around their hands to load them into the duffels. Clunky and heavy, they heaved them up the stairs and out the door.

“Guys, we need to hurry it up!” snarled Eri. The whine of sirens was deafening outside. There was banging on the front door, the clanging of metal against metal growing louder by the second. Eri leveled the shotgun with the door, backing away slowly. “We have company.” Another bang.

You headed down the stairs, past the manager huddled in the corner, and yelled at Kanan.

“Kanan!”

“I’m working as fast as I can!” yelled Kanan. The vault was filled with smoke from the torch, which she took a second to wave out of her eyes.

You grabbed her wrist and pulled her away. “Leave the torch. We need to run.”

You was hefting the last duffel up the stairs. Eri was barking orders, shotgun at the ready, and Ruby was already backing away from the front door, the handgun leveled with the aperture.

The front doors burst open. Ruby followed close behind You and Kanan. Yoshiko was sitting in the back, pulling the bags together to make enough room for them to squeeze together. You heard Eri empty two, three, four shells into the oncoming horde of cops before running with the rest of their cadre to the van.

“Eri!!”

She leapt into the back of the van, and Yoshiko threw the doors closed. They felt the wheels of the van spin, and they trundled out onto the road.

They headed east, the engine spooling with a powerful chatter as Honoka merged aggressively onto the highway and took an odd exit, circling back in the opposite direction. After ten or so minutes, it was clear they had shaken their pursuers, but they kept to the smaller roads and doubled back two or so times just in case. Honoka had left an old hearse out in the housing projects on the outskirts of the city, where they switched cars, loading Mari into the back as softly as they could.

It was there that You stood for a while outside of the car. Her ears were still ringing from the gunshots in the small space. It was cloudy, and a thick wind was kicking up dirt at her feet.

You felt heat on the side of her face, and realized, absentmindedly, that Honoka had torched the van, which was slowly being engulfing in a coiling tongue of orange-red flames.

“You, c’mon. Let’s go,” said Eri.

“What happened?” You asked, dejectedly. In the eye-searing heat of the gasoline flames, burning polyester and fiberglass, she could almost make out the outline of the body on the floor of the bank, wreathed in a dark pool.

“He got away from me and Yoshiko.”

“He had a gun?”

“Yeah.”

“Who shot him?” You asked, looking back at Eri. In the light of the flames, Eri’s face was stern and heavily lined, the thick scar across her nose like a slash on her austere, beautiful face.

“I don't know."

"Yoshiko, did you shoot him?"

Yoshiko was silent.

"What does it matter?” Eri spat. You felt dazed, suddenly aware of how exhausted she was, her arms aching and the dense odor of sweat covering her clothes.

"The door... it wasn't on the blueprints... and M-Mari..." You mumbled to herself.

“Yeah. We weren’t prepared for any of that. This went about as messy as it could’ve gone. But if you’re trying to place the blame on anyone here, you’d be wasting your time. Now get in the fucking car, and let’s go.”

The door to the hearse was open. Honoka sat perpendicular on the driver’s seat, her feet on the ground. Somehow, even the breaths she took managed to be unsettlingly quiet.

Kanan was whispering into Mari’s ear comfortingly. There were fat tears dribbling down her cheeks, and Mari squeezed her hand with as much strength as she could muster.

  
Yoshiko quietly murmured a soft prayer to herself over the black feather she carried. Tears were running down her face. Eventually, You gave up poring over the smoking ruin of the van, and got into the hearse. She laid down in the backseat, with her head in Ruby’s lap, taking in her warmth, and trying not to notice the smell of gunpowder from her fingers.

*

Mari’s vest had stopped the bullet, but she'd come away from the experience with a nasty semicircular laceration and two cracked ribs. Hanamaru estimated about a month and a half to heal, so Mari would be sitting the ride to the coast. She contacted one of her Outfit outposts back in Naples to get her out of Johannesburg. Kanan opted to stay with Mari and care for her in the days before they could be moved. For those remaining, it was their job to get Nico.

That night, they drove a convoy of trucks into Botswana, stopping several times to get fuel, the members of each car sleeping and driving in shifts, and then into Namibia past Windhoek. After leaving the city, the surrounding area quickly thinned out into waves of soft dunes. It was night again when they arrived at the makeshift city.

They were met with a massive crowd of revolutionaries, who had all been living out in the desert for quite a while. The second-in-command of the Kriekets, Jonas, was a tall, skinny Somalian man with a dark complexion. He spoke English with a slight lisp and a thick East African accent. He met Chika and Nozomi with a brisk handshake, and Eri brought the massive bag of boxes over, retrieving the ones they had commissioned from Aqours.

One of the Kriekets opened the one on top with a hammer to reveal a flat, folding tackle box, filled with rows and rows of spare keys.

“The South African government uses a PMC to intimidate members of Parliament into voting for and passing motions the deputy president wants into law. These boxes, all of them have keys to parliament members’ homes, from all over South Africa, blackmail materials, evidence of collusions, individuals that we can directly target and sabotage.” Jonas shook the box triumphantly, letting it clatter loudly. “With this, we can turn the tide of our fight against them. You idols have secured victory for the Kriekets, and for this, I thank you.”

“What about the other boxes we stole?” asked Dia. “Don’t you want those?”

Jonas shook his head. “We are set for funds, currently. That is your reward for a job very well done. But, I believe you had a much more… dynamic reward in mind, yes?”

Nozomi nodded politely, and Jonas laughed. “Come. She’s in her workshop. She’ll be so happy to see you all!”

He motioned for them to follow, and they moved down between the tightly-grouped thermal tents towards a larger section of semi-permanent structures that resembled garages. The largest of these had a garish red splatter of paint on the front that read NICO’S PLACE (and STAY OUT!!).

“I must admit, I will be sad to see Nico go. She is such a lovely girl,” said Jonas, a slight sigh of adoration in his voice. He grabbed at a length of cable and pulled up the sliding shutter door.

The twelve of them, plus Jonas, advanced into the chamber, like a slightly larger garage filled with scrap metal. In front of them was darkness, save for a desk lamp, where a hunched figure was bent over. The figure cocked its head; it was a girl, with unkempt black hair, wearing massive goggles, dressed in a greasy tank top and pants and boots sitting at a workbench. She turned on them, her goggles catching the light of the desk lamp, which combined with her cocked head, gave off a subterranean, insectile appearance.

“Jonas, I’m working with SEMTEX in here. Didn’t I tell you not to disturb me while I’m working?”

“They are here to relieve you, Nico.” Jonas held out an outstretched hand.

The figure at the desk got up and walked, slowly, until she was face to face with Nozomi. She stood there, stoic for a little bit, then almost fell forward into a leaping hug, catching Nozomi around the middle and nearly knocking her over, leaving grease smears all over her nice sundress.

“NOZOMI-CHANNNNNN! ERI! MAKI! Black’s not really your color, Honoka, but it’s nice to see you.” She shot a look of incredulity towards You, instantly fierce again. “Who’re they?”

There was a murmur of unsure order, all of Aqours not certain when to speak, mumbling over each other. Nico imperiously waved their cloud of introductions away.

“Whatever. You’re all idols, yeah?” Aqours all nodded at attention.

“Lemme introduce myself.” Nico gave a wide flourish, and jabbed one thumb to her chest. “I’m Yazawa fucking Nico, and I’m the greatest idol this world has ever fucking seen.” Nico gave a self-satisfied look of surety, eyes closed smugly, and strode past them towards the door, stopping next to Maki.

“Miss me, gorgeous?” Nico asked coolly at the blushing Maki.

“As if. I was hoping we could’ve picked you up last. It’s not been long enough.”

“Mm!” pouted Nico girlishly, before breaking into a wide cackle. “Still fun to tease! Still the same Maki-chan.”

Nozomi checked her phone for the time. “Introductions can be done later. We should get going. Our flight’s at the private airstrip north of Windhoek, and our smugglers don’t have any reservations about leaving us behind.”

*

The rest of their combined cadre was fast asleep as the plane climbed northeast, headed for their changeover in Nairobi. From there, they were headed across the Arabian peninsula, back to China.

Nico turned, looking back at You with an interrogative gaze. “Everybody here looks to your advice before they do anything. Nozomi, too. You’re the center here, right?”

You shook her head. “That’s Chika. I’m just the second-in-command.”

“Ahh,” said Nico knowingly. “The thankless XO, right?” It took You off guard, and her face cracked into a smile, a real, genuine smile that she had felt incapable of making since looking into the fiery van.

“Anything I should know about before I enter your crew?”

“Nothing I can think of. Yoshiko makes insanely spicy curry. Like, inedible—”

“Which one?”

You pointed at the sleeping Yoshiko. “She calls herself Yohane.”

“Ahhh, the chuuni,” said Nico, grinning. “I like her.”

“You said you were the greatest idol this world had ever seen, right? So, just by a glance, you can tell who everybody is in this crew, right?”

Nico pursed her lips. She pointed a finger at each member, in turn, and gave her reading.

Dia: “Straight-laced contractor.”

Riko: “Composer, obviously. She’s your intel.”

Chika: “All-around go-getter.”

Hanamaru: “Hm, she doesn’t look like a fighter… medic?”

“You’re good,” You giggled, and Nico laughed in turn.

“So which one’s the insane one? The like, total death-wish one?”

“Nobody, I don’t think.”

“Nah, you just don’t know it yet. It happens with any crew.”

You shrugged blithely. “Well, I mean, your readings have been good so far, you should tell me.”

“I mean… you, naturally,” Nico said, pointing one short finger at her. “You’ve got shit way too together for somebody who’s naturally in command. I’m guessing you used to be all over the place, happy-go-lucky, am I right?”

The smile was struck from You’s face in an instant.

“Oh man! You should see the look on your face,” said Nico, sputtering with laughter, keeping a hand over her mouth to muffle herself. “No, I’m just teasing. You look far from nuts, sweetheart.” Nico’s eyes wandered to the sleeping Ruby over by Yoshiko and Hanamaru. There was a measure of caution to her voice. “How long have you known her, though?”

“Ruby? Since school. Why?”

“I don’t like the look of that one. Keep an eye on her.”


	6. The Runner, pt. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the small chapter! i'll try to get the rest up by the end of next week!

The boxes had contained cash, and a pouch of uncut stones. They were sitting at attention around the table, eating sandwiches, considerably jet lagged. Maki had made them a big pot of tea as well.

“Hoshizora Rin. Really, a sweetheart at her core, and the best wheelman that any crew could ever hope to have. She’s in Hong Kong, working for a corporation called Syamantaka Antiquities, a shell company run by a bunch of Macau pirates who specialize in smuggling jewels and other artifacts onto the black market. Your kind of people,” she giggled at Chika.

Nico retrieved a cigarette and lit it. She took a long drag and blew out a cloud of smoke in the stale air of the crowded Dongguan apartment. “It just had to be Hong Kong, huh? Fucking Christ.”

“Why, what’s up?” asked Riko.

“Hong Kong is absolute hell on wheelmen. It’s stupidly dense, with narrow roads, one-way streets, tunnels, sharp corners, and there are areas where you basically can’t even drive through, like markets, because of the sheer amount of people in the streets at all hours of the day. Every single crew who works there is armed to the fucking teeth, always, with cheap-manufactured guns from Indonesia and Australia. There are few thieves I know of who are even capable of pulling off jobs in a place like that.”

“What’s the joke that arms dealer always used to make about Hong Kong robbers?” asked Maki to Nico.

Nico laughed a little. “’The Cantonese word for “getaway” and “gunfight” is the same thing.’”

“That was Rin’s specialty, remember?” said Eri. “I never even saw her fire a gun. She’s been cutting her teeth on getaways in the most dangerous places in the world since we broke up.”

“Always hell on wheels,” Nozomi sighed fondly. ”Well, for a modest fee, Maki-chan managed to figure out when Syamantaka’s next consultation with the British jeweler reps is going to happen.”

“When is that?” asked Dia.

“Three weeks from now,” said Maki, pouring herself another cup of tea.

“You need to cool for two weeks at an absolute minimum before fencing anything. For antiques, it can be up to a half year or so. So, the robbery could be happening fucking tomorrow for all we know about it,” Nico appended pessimistically.

“Ah, but this isn’t truly fencing. This is corporate grudge-holding. The representatives will buy the stone even if it had been stolen thirty seconds prior.”

“So… we’re going to rob a robbery, then?” asked Ruby. "Wouldn't we have to plan for every single backup they've already thought up?"

“Well, generally,” said Eri, “crews working there hit something ideally near the city limits, then get it to the water and switch it between multiple boats to fool the marine cops. Getting to the water is the really tough part.”

“If we know where there’s headed, we could bribe the mariners waiting for them,” said You. Eri shook her head.

“I’m not certain we have the cash on hand to convince them to keep their promises. We’re either faster than the getaway team, or we’re better armed and more dug in for a fight.”

“And even then,” added Nico glumly, “we have to get to them before the fucking cops do. We basically need Rin to pull off this job.”

“I need to procure us some supplies,” said Nozomi cheerfully. “We’ll probably be sitting here for a while until we figure out when the robbery’s happening, and then, it’s all hands on deck. I'll need you all able to leave at a moment's notice.”

*

They were burning time waiting, and a small routine had overtaken the apartment. Nico and Yoshiko had made fast friends, and Nico had taken upon herself to designate her as a protégé. Today was close-quarters combat, and You and Eri watched as Yoshiko tried, with a measure of futility, to touch her with the sheathed knife. Yoshiko came at Nico with the knife, again and again. Nico turned her away with her bare hands each time, beckoning her to try again.

“You’re winding up too much, Angel. Shorter strokes. Close distance faster, don’t swing as far.” She let go of Yoshiko’s wrist and stepped away. “Again.”

She did so again, but Nico met her with quick strikes and turned her on her heel.

“Didn’t realize angels were so bad at footwork, hm?”

“Shut the fuck up!” snarled Yoshiko, who moved quicker, her movements sloppier. Nico sidestepped her overarm thrust, and separated her and the knife handily. Yoshiko, in her frustration, transitioned into a haymaker aimed at Nico’s face—to which the black-haired girl responded by ducking, and pulling out Yoshiko’s far leg out from behind her, pulling her to her knees.

“Any move in CQC, defensive or offensive, can be thought of like a summation of three moves. You have a formidable amount of brute strength, Great Angel, but it doesn’t mean anything against an opponent who won’t allow you to get a hit in,” said Nico, placing one boot triumphantly on the small of Yoshiko’s back. “Keep that in mind. You should take a break, but we’re making progress, Yoshiko.”

“It’s Yohane! Yo-ha-ne!” snapped Yoshiko, pouting from her sore bout. She pulled herself to her feet, bristling, and took a drink from the water bottle she’d left on the couch. Nico surveyed You and Eri triumphantly.

Her eyes flicked to You. “Hey XO. You know how to fight?”

You nodded. “Of course.”

Nico flipped the knife over and held it by the sheathed blade, offering the handle to You. “Show me.”

You held the knife. She tested its weight with several different grips and swings.

Nico stood at the ready, her arms crossed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You sat for a moment and absorbed the feeling of holding a weapon in her hand, feeling herself attune and adjust to the extra weight. She took a deep, full-body breath, and loosened her shoulders.

You moved fast into a forward strike coming off of the balls of her feet, which made for her perennial opening, closing the distance to Nico before giving a quick horizontal slash, which Nico responded by leaping nimbly out of range. As she swung again and again, Nico gave a complex array of sidesteps and dodges, always staying to You’s negative side. Their first spar was over in sixty seconds as Nico yanked on her wrist and shoulder in opposite directions. The shock crackled through her, and the knife clattered to the ground.

“Shit,” You spat. She massaged her wrist. Nico gave a smug smile.

“You’re not bad! I’ll give you two more tries to touch me once with that knife, Gray.”

Eri was watching both of them with an amused expression. You staggered to her feet and hefted the knife again.

“Okay. Two more tries.”

“Whenever you’re ready!” trilled Nico.

You sprang forward into the same charge, but feinted, zig-zagging away from Nico—when she swung the knife, she changed her grip, holding the blade in a reverse grip and counterswung from the other direction, behind Nico’s parrying block. When Nico dodged, she feinted again and shot around her opposite side, striking with a quick thrust.

Something changed behind Nico’s eyes. It had started as something playful and didactic, but her eyes took on a reddish gleam as if she were fighting for her life, and she suddenly stepped forward, going on the offensive. You dodged twice, but it was in vain. Once You felt the grip of Nico’s hand on her arm, she knew she’d lost this skirmish.

“Nico-”

Nico shifted, then pivoted You on her own weight.

“-Nico-”

In one fluid move, she twisted You’s arm behind her back.

“Nii!”

Nico yanked upwards with enough force to bring tears to You’s eyes, and her knees buckled. When You looked up, she saw the audience had swelled to contain Maki, Riko, Chika and Nozomi, with Ruby peeking her head into the doorway around the corner.

Her teacher dropped to a squat. “That was pretty good. You wanna try once more?”

There was something cold and angry in You’s gut. “Yeah. Let’s go once more.”

Nico helped pull her to her feet. You didn’t even realize it, but she was out of breath.

“Hey, I’ll even let you take off the sheath for this one.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You’ve got excellent form, but the extra weight’s making your swings wide, and I wanna see what you’re capable of. Take it off.”

“Whoa, Nico—” Eri started, but Nico waved her away.

“You’ve forgotten that I’m the greatest idol in the world, Eri.” Nico pointed at You dramatically. “Take off the sheath.”

“Nico, don’t get ahead of yourself,” said Nozomi. “This is training, not an exhibition match.”

You slowly unbuckled the strap, then slid the sheath off, revealing a darkened blade with a bright silver edge. She tested the weight with several swings, finding it a little easier. The knife made a satisfying crisp sound as You swung it through the air.

“Whatever, she hasn’t been able to touch me once,” Nico giggled. “Whenever you’re ready, You-chan?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking ready,” said You. With the naked knife in her hand, she felt a previously-unknown power coursing through her, electrifying every muscle and tendon in her arms and legs.

When You sprang forward, she was taken aback at how fast she moved, closing distance in an instant. You moved so fast that for the briefest of moments, Nico looked frozen, and the same reddish-gleam overtook her gaze. She knew now that Nico was actually serious.

You dodged and feinted, dodged and feinted. It was like her previous training had combined with a latent power inside herself, tapping into a store of energy that afforded her limitless stamina. Even with the gleam present, Nico was still on the defensive, the tip of the blade whistling as it came close to Nico’s belly. You was angry with Nico. She felt a sickly urge that wanted to hurt her.

You struck with a straight thrust, making Nico whirl out of the way. She changed grips, slid under Nico’s fingers, and swung with a reckless intent to kill. Time slowed down when she got close to her. Nico back- and side-stepped as cleanly as she could, but her actions were rushed and growing sloppy as You gained on her bit by bit. Nevertheless, the way Nico’s moves mutated and changed, You could tell she was losing her grasp on the skirmish; if she didn’t manage to touch Nico with the knife before Nico could figure the correct takedown in her head that would guarantee victory, Nico would simply play with her until taking her down in the most biting, humiliating way, like she’d done with Yoshiko mere moments ago.

There was suddenly a gripped hand on You’s wrist, and for the briefest moment, You thought she had lost, but she dropped the knife, catching it in midair with the blade aimed at her own wrist, and brought the swing back on herself. Nico’s finger’s escaped the purview of the whistling, gleaming edge nimbly, and as she struck from the opposite side, You countered with a forward shoulder butt that unseated Nico’s tiptoe-like stance.

It was now or never.

You brought the knife into a wicked stab. But Nico had been quicker, slackening her knees into a controlled fall. The knife, whose tip had been level with Nico’s nose, passed gracefully through the whirling mass of Nico’s hair on one side. She could see the expression on Nico’s face. It was real, genuine fear, unfolding in slow motion. You thought she heard an audible gasp from Riko.

Suddenly, there was a devastating strike to You’s abdomen, knocking her diaphragm, and she knew that she had overextended with her previous thrust. She had gotten too close, and ended up in Nico’s three-strike combo, and before she knew it, she was on the ground.

Nico was panting heavily, sweat on her forehead, as she held You in the shoulder lock for nearly thirty seconds, applying a pressure until You’s arm was in agony. Finally, she let go of the knife, and it dropped, sticking in the floor with an anticlimactic thunk, handle sticking straight up.

“I win, motherfucker,” Nico whispered into her ear, and placed a triumphant boot on You’s back. Despite her show of force, You had let her crazed feeling of blind frenzy take over. Nico deserved her win, discipline, technique, and her gloating in all.

Nico yelped as You scrambled to her feet, letting her fall to her behind onto the floor, every synapse in her brain screaming with the thirst to keep going, but she tore herself away, heading off through the doorway, and past Chika’s outstretched arm. She hadn’t felt so frustrated in a while. She dived to her futon and buried her face into her pillow, until the feeling had left her body and only the ache of exertion remained.

*

In the moments when You had left, the room was entirely still and quiet. There was a soft snapping sound, like a rubber band breaking, and one of Nico’s red ribbons fluttered out of her hair, her twintail coming undone and falling as a soft, unbridled mass of hair to the side of her head. A tiny cut on Nico’s cheek had opened, and was weeping a slow dribble of blood. Nico felt her cheek. “No way.”

“Did you see how she moved? It was like…” Eri started.

“Kotori,” Nozomi breathed. “She has actual potential.”

Nico turned to Nozomi slowly. “So that’s the real reason you picked her, right?” The purple-haired girl returned her gaze with one inscrutable and sagelike.

“I can’t train a junior Kotori.” Nico was trembling in anger. “Nozomi, look—”

“If you can’t do it,” Nozomi said, looking wistfully through the doorway, “then maybe Kotorin herself is up to the task.”

Nico and Eri looked stunned. Maki’s eyes were wide.

“Nozomi, you can’t be fucking serious.”

Nozomi shot a determined look at Nico’s wide red eyes. “Right now, she is our best chance at winning this war before it even begins. We won’t be able to hold our ground in an actual confrontation without her or Kotori on our side. But this time, we’re going to do it right, and we’re going to have both of them.”

The stare that Nozomi gave to Nico was bone-chilling, her figure looming over the smaller idol.

“No more Berlins. When this group is split again, it will be our deathknell.” Nozomi turned and moved to the door.

Nico’s eyes were wide with anger. “So you’re just going to use her like a weapon, huh? Hey, fuck her if she ends up a casualty, right?”

“Nico, stop—”

“Hey, how come nobody in this group talks about Honoka, huh? When she got captured, whose fault was that? And who brought her back?”

Nozomi froze in her tracks.

“They tortured her to within an inch of her life, and she still follows your orders? On the front line?”

“She doesn’t have the capacity to lead anymore,” said Nozomi, a quaver of anger in her voice. “She wanted me to take over in her stead.”

“You know damn well it should’ve been me—”

Maki snapped at Nico. “Hey!” The short, black-haired girl gritted her teeth in anger.

“Apologize.”

Nico jabbed a finger at Nozomi, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Eventually, she touched her cheek, and winced, before storming out of the room. Nobody else could bring themselves to say anything either.


	7. The Runner, pt. II

This had less of a coordinated effort than boarding the train in Russia. You, Eri, Chika and Yoshiko were waiting in a van off the corner where they were supposed to set up the rattrap. They felt less like soldiers and more like hunters, waiting to spring on an unsuspecting target.

Nico was waiting a street over. She had the trigger to the explosive, insisting that no one else was mature enough to handle it, which You thought was ironic.

“Commander, do you copy?” crackled Riko’s voice through the walkie. You was jolted awake, finding that she had been dozing slightly.

“Copy that. You here, over.”

“Two minutes to departure. Roadblock 3, stay on alert, over.”

“They’re taking off from the warehouse now. Roadblock 1, do you copy?”

“Copy that,” said Dia. “Roadblock 1 is ready, over.”

They waited with patience, swaddled in nerve-wracking silence.

“Roadblock 1 is… go. Flushing left, over.”

There was another pause. Sweat was beading on You’s palm as she held the walkie in front of her. Eri was watching with an expression of stern readiness. Chika and Yoshiko had silently crowded around her.

“They’ve taken the bait! Heading your way, Roadblock 2!” said Dia, her voice quivering even through the static of the walkie.

“Roadblock 2, do you copy?”

“Copy that, zura,” said Hanamaru. “Standing by.”

Chika was gripping the steering wheel like she was ready to pull it off.

“Heading right from me. Roadblock 3, be ready, zura, over,” said Hanamaru.

She won’t flee until we’re in sight, You thought over and over in her mind.

“Roadblock 3, is the target in sight? Over.”

A nondescript-looking white truck had just turned a corner and was moving towards their tunnel, inconspicuous except for its accelerating speed. “Target in sight,” You whispered. “Over.”

“Nico, on my signal.”

“Watch who you’re talking to, amateur,” Nico replied.

You’s eyes were on the neon sign on the building corner. It was near enough to the entrance to the tunnel, and thick enough to stop a truck clean in its tracks.

“Blow the sign in 3.”

The truck was nearing.

“2—”

Before You could ever open her mouth to say “one,” the section of the asphalt in front of them blew apart. They were struck with a sickening crack that lifted the van off two wheels, bringing it crashing back down, the chassis squeaking. A wave of shattered glass from the surrounding buildings came tinkling down on the top of the van.

You’s eyes and nose were filled with dust and smoke, and her ears had been filled with a thick ringing. The street in front of her was destroyed.

“Damn it! Nico, what the fuck?! All we needed was enough to drop the sign and cut off access to the tunnels. We had a plan!”

“Hey, newsflash, You! Mine were on the sign! I haven’t triggered any explosives yet.”

Eri had a look, somewhere between crestfallen and horrified. “Did… did they turn on her?”

Without thinking, You opened the door and leapt out onto the street, running toward the downed vehicle. She ignored Eri’s yells of protest behind her.

The truck was crumpled, both tires blown. The cabin looked untouched, but the front end was wedged in a section of cracked asphalt, the hood askew as white steam eked out from the sides and front. The blast had been powerful enough to tent the walls, concave, on both sides.

“Shit. Eri?”

“I’m checking the cabin.”

“Wait,” said Chika. She cocked her head slightly towards the back of the totaled truck. “Do you hear that? What’s that noise?”

Yoshiko leveled the submachine gun with the truck’s back compartment. There was a loud, muffled purring, like a beast rousing itself from a long sleep.

Both doors blew off in a whirling rush of smoke, the twisted metal skating across the asphalt in front of them. The sound of an engine screamed into the crowded street, and Hoshizora Rin shot from the back of the truck into the air on a black motorcycle, her jumpsuit tiger-striped black and orange, a thick duffel slung cross-body on her back. For a moment, You felt everything slow down; the figure of the girl emerging from the smoke into the technicolor of the street, every reflective surface alight with the glare of neon signs. In the infinitesimal pause, she made eye contact with Rin.

As the thick wheels found purchase on the ground with a screeching skid, Rin sped off with incredible speed, the lights of the neon signs overhead flashing off her shiny black helmet.

“Shit!” snarled Eri. Almost as if on cue, a figure leaned out the window of parked car around the block, and the brutal report of gunfire sounded as Rin disappeared from sight around the corner of another street several blocks down.

“Hey, talk to me! What the fuck’s going on?” blared Nico’s voice from the walkie.

“Change of plans,” was all You could manage as she broke into a full-tilt run to get into the passenger seat of their car. “Head for the pier!”

Even at full peel-out, the van had to circumvent the section of broken street left behind by the sloppy explosives.

You nervously checked the magazine of her Agram, smacking it back into the body of the gun and pulling the slide back, as Chika hurtled the van around the corner, past several one-way streets, the blaring of car horns sounding up and down the block as she tore through three, four red lights.

“Don’t get on the freeway,” said Eri. “That’s a one-way ticket to us to being trapped.”

“Does anybody have eyes on Rin?” You asked into the walkie.

“Heading west the last time we saw her!” came Ruby’s squeaking voice.

Chika drove around, pulling into oncoming traffic on a wide boulevard, and shot a screeching diagonal to exit on a larger cross-street. Her eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror, and the truck behind them that was creeping closer, weaving in and out of the traffic of the boulevard.

“We have uninvited guests!” Yoshiko yelled, eyes on the brown pickup tailing them.

“Damn it. Eri, Yoshiko, deal with them!”

Eri fired a volley of shots across the pickup’s engine block, which did predictably nothing to deter the Syamantaka thieves within. Return fire knocked a line of bright holes in the back doors of the van, through which light streamed.

The brown, rusted pickup behind her, which had matched their speed earlier, came up beside them, and a silhouette, appearing almost like a ghost, a black-masked figure aimed a handgun at Chika through the window. You made brief eye contact with the silhouette, and her opponent, ever so slightly faltered.

“Chika, brakes!”

Chika complied, slamming on the brakes, and the weight within the van shifted forward, the tires rumpling and squealing.

The pickup lost its matched speed.

“Turn right, now!”

They shot into a small cross street, mounting the curb and moving around the slower-moving cars in the road. The pickup followed behind them closely as they weaved through a six-way intersection, narrowly avoiding an incoming sedan

“Head for an alley on your left. Six blocks down. Don’t turn until I give you the signal,” said Eri. She clicked open the bay doors of the van, and You was suddenly startled by the loud rush of wind and traffic.

“A little closer, _mudak,_ ” Eri said to herself. When she tensed, her grip strong and true on the handle of her UMP, everything slowed down for You, the seconds ticking by until Eri opened her mouth.

“Now!”

Chika ramped the clutch and threw the wheel to her left. The van’s tires wailed and the suspension knocked as they mounted the curb, You's head nearly slamming into the dash. The pickup slid so close that You could see the driver’s eyes.

Bright green.

Eri put two clean shots through the windshield into the driver at point-blank range. The pickup curved, almost gracefully, and slammed into the wall, growing smaller and smaller as the van caught back up to speed.

“You, do you have eyes on Rin? Over,” came Maki’s voice from the Roadblock 2 team.

“We had some complications to deal with,” said You, catching her breath. “Who has eyes on her?”

“Wait… wait! She’s heading north now!” Dia yelled, the desperation coming over of her voice.

“How is she halfway across the city?!” You asked, trying to keep the anger out of her voice.

“She took a shortcut through the fucking market streets,” said Yoshiko. “None of us will be able to lay a finger on her.”

“She’s… she’s on the freeway. She’ll be at the pier in minutes,” said Dia.

You stared at the walkie. All of their preparation had been for basically nothing.

“W-we don’t have any eyes on her, zura,” said Hanamaru.

“None here,” said Nico. “Over.”

“None for us either,” said Maki. “We’ve lost her, over.”

Some part of You knew this was coming, but the stinging realization that they had been outfoxed was biting deep into her chest.

“Copy that. Mission failure, over. Take half an hour to ditch your vehicles. Meet up at the safe house. Over and out.”

*

The tanker ship swayed with the choppy waves as the speedboat pulled up. Hoshizora Rin was staring off into the dense, constantly changing patterns of the ocean waves, her helmet under one arm. The driver of the boat was silent, an older Hong Konger man with a mess of long, gray hair pulled into a ponytail.

The representative was somewhat short and fat, with a posh-sounding British accent. He was accompanied by several guards, dressed in all black, all hefting automatic weaponry.

She tossed down the duffel, and one of the guards picked it up and unzipped it.

He lowered his glasses to eye the small, pockmarked green figurine inside the foam lining.

“Sukhothai jade. Nearly six centuries old,” he appraised over a pair of thin glasses. “Outstanding work, dear.” After replacing the figure, he smiled at her with a warm expression. “Was there anything else you needed?”

Rin gritted her teeth. “You promised a cut for a Hong Kong job, nya.”

“I promised you a bonus, and only if you killed your coworkers, which you did not. Instead, I’ll have to get Hong Kong police to do the job, for which you will foot the bill. Only fair, I should think?”

“I didn’t agree to that, nya,” said Rin. “I told you I don’t kill.”

“You were certainly singing a different tune when I assuaged your rather dire situation in Morocco. The governor wanted both of your hands for that tigerseye, and he is a man with a very, very long memory.”

“I’m not leaving empty-hanynded,” she said.

“Hmm,” he ruminated. “Get rid of her,” he said, waving a hand leisurely.

One of the guards put a hand on her arm, and she smacked it away with lightning reflexes.

The representative backed away from his closest guard, who had turned towards him.

“What on earth—”

Half of the guards in the current company turned, facing their partners behind them, and there was a flurry of action, figures knocked to their knees, the sound of choking and lost consciousness.

In an instant, there was a guard on the representative, and they sank a knee into his solar plexus. He was down on the deck, coughing, as Eri whipped off her mask and put a hand on his collar to strike him again. She patted him down, unbuckling a holster at his belt and tossing the 9 millimeter away.

Another guard came up to the representative, and she removed her mask slowly, revealing a whirl of grayish-brown hair, and bright blue eyes.

“Are there any more mercenaries on the boat?”

“...w...what?”

“There were eight on the aft deck my crew and I disabled. They’re in the crew’s quarters. Two in the control room, two belowdecks in the boiler room. No one in the cargo bay?”

The rep blinked, and then smiled, coughing heavily. “I know you,” he said.

You felt a chill down her spine, but tried her hardest not to let it show. She furrowed her brow. “Who else is on the boat?”

“You’re the pirate from the _Sunshine_ , aren’t you? I’ve read your dossier.”

You bit her lip, trying to keep up a stone-faced facade.

“You… idols. You act like you can do whatever you want. Like the people more powerful than me aren’t paying attention to your actions."

"Answer my question."

"I feel like I should tell you, but I can get your bounties rescinded. All of yours," he broadcasted to the masked guards surrounding him in a wide flank. "It would require a little cooperation on your part, but I believe we can reach a compromise. Your abilities are paramount.”

“Lock him in the brig,” said You.

Eri pulled him bodily upwards by his collar. The rep stumbled a little, coughing.

“C’mon,” Eri snarled, yanking him again, and the rep ducked a hand inside his coat, physically ripping the pocket open to draw a sidearm thinner than a billfold. It happened with such incredible speed that You felt the world physically slow down around her as adrenaline coursed into her muscles.

The gun in his hand was leveled with Rin’s head, and with her incredible reflexes, she instantly scrambled away, but with the spray of the chopping waves on the dock, she lost her footing and slipped, trying to weave away.

You's senses had clicked into place. With one foot put behind her, finding purchase on the slippery deck surface, You dashed forward, one hand already having unbuckled the combat knife at her side. You had predicted right: the rep was not a seafaring man, and he constantly changed his center of gravity when the boat shifted.

You sank the knife into the soft spot under his ribs, which contacted on his pudgy frame, and he crumpled. Had she removed the knife’s sheath, it would have been a fatal blow. The gunshot had gone several meters wide of Rin, who was cowering, tears running down her face. The commander checked the pulse of the man, alive, who had passed out from the sudden strike to his organs, before offering an outstretched arm to Rin.

She got to her feet, hoisted by You’s sudden arm strength. “Mmm,” whimpered Rin, nursing the inside of one ear with a finger. “Gunshots hurt my ears, nya.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” said You apologetically. “Nozomi-chan warned that this would be a messy way of getting into actual contact with you, but we were trying our hardest to get you away before you got onto the same boat as these guys.” She gave a sheepish smile. The various members of Aqours and µ’s began unmasking themselves, making their way towards Rin.

“And You’s too dumb to think up a plan with real nuance, either,” said Nico smugly, to You’s chagrin.

“But—”

“Blame our friend who just so happened to know the mostly-Italian crew of this tanker mule,” said Riko, winking.

“This was our short-notice last-minute backup _backup_ plan,” said Hanamaru. “Nozomi-chan thought it was too goofy to actually work, zura.”

“N-n-n-Nyozomin—” Rin squeaked.

“The fact that we couldn’t beat you at your own game is a testament to your ability, Rin-chan,” said Eri, smiling. She tossed a pouch to the boatman, who caught it with one hand. He appraised a small stone from the bag, checking it against the dim, overcast light.

“I know you don’t weep for your teammates, these thugs, or this accursed individual, but desperate times call for brute force,” said Yoshiko ostentatiously. Rin recoiled at the sight of the still-living but unconscious representative, as Eri bound him with a length of rope.

The thin thief was surprised by a tap at her shoulder. “Honoka-nyan,” Rin burbled happily, hugging Honoka around the abdomen, which Honoka reciprocated with a ruffling of Rin’s cinnamon-colored hair and a soft smile.

Ruby pushed the bag, laden with the priceless figurine, back into Rin’s hands. She gave her a quixotic little smile, which Rin gave back.

They began boarding the little mariner’s boat, although You felt a hand at her shoulder, and she turned around to see Nico glaring a severe expression at her. “You, Nico-senpai, are you coming?” asked Chika.

“Give us a minute,” said Nico, grinning. “I gotta talk to the XO first.” When she turned back to You, there was absolutely no caprice in her voice, only a kind of smoldering, guttering anger as she thrust a finger into You’s chest. Nico dug her fingers into the rope binding Rin’s would-be killer, and You’s heart sank, because she knew what was coming next.

They dragged the unconscious rep to the far side of the boat, behind the curtain of shipping containers.

“Why didn’t you take the sheath off?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“You were in a situation where you were trying to prevent the death of a teammate, but you still used nonlethal force.”

“Some part of me didn’t want to kill him.”

“Nobody wants to kill anybody, but that shouldn’t stop us.”

Nico sighed, taking a deep, bolstering breath. She pulled the pocket Ruger from her shoulder and pointed it at the rep’s unconscious head.

You had an iron grip on Nico’s thin wrist.

“Let go.”

“Why do you need to kill him?”

“I don’t _need_ to do anything but eat, sleep, shit, and breathe. I’m preventing more harm to other people. This guy is a footsoldier, and we’re at war.”

“If he’s just a disposable pawn, hasn’t he been cheated by the people higher up than him? Something larger, and faceless?”

“You, this man got rich from blood diamonds in West Africa—kids with their arms hacked off and impressed into slave labor. This guy funneled money into death squads in Chile and funded far-right terrorists in Belarus and Greece. If you can’t see the divide between this guy, and us, you and I need to have a longer talk about what it is we fight for. There are always names, there are always faces, and as long as he lives and receives orders, he will continue to hurt others.”

“Revenge isn’t revolutionary. Nozomi-chan always says tha—“

Nico’s expression was angry, her nose and brow wrinkled, her eyes wide. “I don’t give a fuck what Nozomi says, and neither should you. Because despite her hiring you for this job, despite her giving you orders, she wants to ensure that you’re using your own judgment. She wants you to be as invested in this as she is. What did she say to you when she took you on?”

You met Nico’s gaze. “She said, ‘revolution.’”

“This is it. The war doesn’t start with us, it doesn’t end with us. It’s buoyed along by the kind of people who’ve spent their lives under the yoke of this motherfucker. This is bigger than just a single antiques company. This is plutocracy and violence at its most ruthless, and those kinds of people know about us. We—no, _you—_ need to show them you are not afraid of their actions. _Now let go of my wrist_.”

You let go of Nico’s wrist. There was already blood swelling under the skin into parallel lines, finger-shaped bruises from where You had held her with crushing force. Through all of that, Nico never batted an eye.

Nico pulled the rep up to his knees, his head lolling around like a limp doll. She put the barrel of the gun to the back of his head, and You looked away when she pulled the trigger.

“Get too hung up on what Nozomi says, and you’ll end up like Honoka.” Nico hoisted the lifeless body over the edge of the boat, and You realized there were tears on Nico’s face, and she was shaking. She wiped her nose, still angry with You.

“I’m not going to fucking lie to you, or tell you it gets easier when you do it, or that killing isn’t wrong. The revolution, whatever that’s supposed to be, can’t be carried out by nine people, or eighteen people, for that matter. There is no physical revolution, not in this day and age. What we’re doing now isn’t spreading class consciousness or ripping down colonial structures. It’s just public service. Now come on.”

*

Rin was returned safely to Dongguan. She would later see Nozomi, welcomed into her open arms, and when Nozomi told her of the circumstances of their next job, she hesitated. But when Rin looked around at all of them apprehensively, comrades old and new, she had tired of the long nights of scared, unfriendly company amongst thieves. Even with anxious excitement coloring her expression, she could only say yes. Idols like her needed to stay together. 

Rin found herself unable to sleep, buzzy and anxious after the action of a job, like she always was. That night, she heard Nico crying in her bedroll, and Rin didn't ask her what was wrong. She held her hand and let her squeeze until she stopped shaking, and quieted in the moonlight.


End file.
